


Jacob Frye 40 y/o x Reader - The Fall Series

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Age Difference, Daddy Kink, F/M, Love, NSFW, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Public Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Training, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 81,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series where the reader is trained by 40-year-old Jacob Frye--causing a romance to happen between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.
> 
> Like my content? Shoot me a donation on Ko-Fi~! Every little bit keeps me freed up to produce more! https://ko-fi.com/A4381WZM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

Peaceful sleep used to be so easy to come by, and now you found yourself only getting a lousy five or so hours with the early training you were given by the Master Assassin, Jacob Frye. You were given enough money by him to buy yourself a house to spend your days not far from his own lodgings. It wasn’t the best house in any way—the boards were old, it lacked kitchen utensils, and the sheets were dirty and thin making the winters unbearable—but it was a home and was better than the streets, admittedly.

It always felt, as soon as you had drifted off to sleep, that your mentor would find his way into your home and shake you awake. “Come on now,” you heard him ordering to you. “Get up. We have training to do!”

You opened your eyes lazily to see him hovering over you with his hand firmly on your shoulder. In that moment, you noticed it was still dark out. “What time is it…?” you groaned, not able to feel any energy coursing through you whatsoever.

“Time for you to get up, or I get the cold water again,” Jacob threatened, his tone serious as he wasn’t in it for your antics, it seemed.

Grumbling, you pushed yourself into a sitting position at least. The last thing you wanted was a damp bed. The first occasion he threatened such a thing, you took it as a joke…and that was the last time you took anything he said, in regards to rousing you, as a means to tease. He had doused you good and warned you that he wouldn’t ask again. You took him as a hard mentor since you had been training under him weeks ago…annoyed at him for how strict he seemed to be. Didn’t he know what it was like to have fun, or did he forget that sort of thing on his climb to the top?

“Get dressed,” Jacob instructed, tossing you your uniform to show his intolerance in how long it took you just to wake up.  “I’ll be waiting for you outside.” He stopped at the doorway, which led to your bedroom and pointed down at the flooring. “Be quick about it. I don’t have all bloody morning for you to roll around like a lazy apprentice!”

When you heard the door to your housing close, you mocked him with a scrunched up face and a mouthed ‘blah, blah, blah’. You weren’t a morning person…and if your clock was any indication, you sure as hell weren’t a three in the morning person either. Throwing the covers off of your body in an annoyed fashion, you quickly changed as instructed before heading outside to meet with him.

It was damn cold and the air was damp. You knew a storm would be coming sometime soon, but you couldn’t moan about that right now. If you so much as complained about the chill in the air, Jacob would see to it that you ran enough to get the heat going through your body, and that usually meant chasing after him across London from Whitchapel all the way to Westminster on foot since you knew nothing about how to scale buildings yet. From where he was standing near the streets of London, you could see he was cold himself, as he was blowing into his gloved hands and rubbing them together.

All you had to do was take a few steps, and Jacob turned to acknowledge you. “Ready now, are you?” he asked, hands fishing for a cane-sword he had on him—an extra one, it seemed. “Here,” said Jacob intently. “Take this.”

It was a decorative cane. Black sheath, which concealed the sword, and a raven head on the end that was made of silver, you pulled the sword slowly from its hiding spot and, admittedly, swallowed harshly at the idea such a weapon was in your possession now. You had trained with Jacob before in means of stealth prior. It took so long that he was almost acting discouraged with you, but it seems he was moving up the training to weapon handling now.

“It’s the first cane-sword I ever used. It has a good grip on her and handles like a dream,” Jacob said, pointing to the weapon you now held before motioning at you with a come hither wave of his fingers, heading onwards down the nearby path. “Sheath it now. You can gawk at it later.” He looked left and right anxiously while continuing onwards down the street and then taking a hard right down a cobblestone road that was nearly overgrown and forgotten from time. “We don’t need the police seeing that and arresting you.”

You did as instructed with a nervous, rapid beating of your heart. “B-But we’ve never trained with any weapons before,” you reminded Jacob as he came to a halt in a backyard that was abandoned, it seemed. “Can’t we start with something less sharp? Like, maybe a stick or something? Or maybe a pole?”

Jacob scoffed with a wrinkle of his brow. “Whatever for? So you can feel safe when handling the real thing and be harder to train and easier to hit?” It was there he unsheathed his own cane-sword and readied it in his grip. “No, that won’t do. It is better to prepare with the real thing than a safe weapon.” He pointed his sword at you. “Now, let’s train you to use it.”

You supposed you never thought of it that way as you uneasily revealed the sword to the moonlight that still clouded you both. The blade made a very small ‘shing’ of a sound when exposed, and that noise alone was enough to make your grip tighten in concern. You held it as you assumed Jacob was holding his and outstretched your arm with it readied. However, Jacob seemed less than impressed and shook his head at your posture.

“You’re not going to hit anything like that,” he instructed, moving over beside you and bent the arm downward that was holding the weapon to try and ease the tension in your body. His hand touching your own, he swore to himself in a joking way. “If you put anymore of a choke hold on this weapon, you are going to break the bloody thing in half!” he scolded, trying to relax your grip on it, but it seemed your body wouldn’t comply.

Jacob sighed (almost in defeat, but a small tenor of a laugh could be heard as well). His hands moving to your shoulders, his hold upon you was firm, yet gentle and understanding. “Relax, will you?” he asked, tone a lot more tolerable and calm as he spoke near your ear. His breath was warm and welcoming in the cold air that surrounded you both, and you stood firm trying to take in his instructions. “The weapon isn’t going to hurt you as long as you handle it properly. Also, the more stressed you are, the worse your grip will be as your palm gets sweaty, I’ve noticed.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you looked to Jacob curiously. “Forgive me for having human emotions.” You were joking, but you couldn’t help but be annoyed as well. He acted like you had to lack emotions and run like a well oiled machine to be an Assassin.

“Your emotions can help you as well as hurt you,” the elder Assassin reminded you, his hand finally tapping upon the back of yours as if to make you release the cane-sword. “Sod it—release it, will you!” he ordered, finally able to coax your fingers away from the weapon he had gifted you earlier. With it out of your death grip, he placed his hand supportively upon your shoulder. “Breathe,” Jacob instructed once more, motioning towards you both and then away.

Seemed even your breathing was unsatisfactory, as he pulled out a pocket watch on a silver chain he had. “To this,” he corrected himself. “When I release this, take a deep breath, and when it swings back into my palm, release it, and we’ll repeat it.”

Doing as you were asked, you watched as the ornate pocket watch was swung back and forth in a rather slow and hypnotic manner, but Jacob made sure to stop it after one full swing so you could gather yourself and then release it again to continue the process till he felt you were relaxed enough. It made you feel a bit more at ease, and you did your best to remove the jitters from your body by shaking your hands.

“Better?” he asked, hand to your back to pat you there supportively.

“A bit,” you answered with a raise of your brow, looking back to the pocket watch you rarely saw him dig from his coat pocket. From what you could make of it, it looked brand new on the surface, but even upon him opening it (maybe out of habit), you saw the hands weren’t moving. “What’s the point of a watch if you don’t keep it up on the time?”

“It doesn’t work anymore. It was my sister’s, and it’s the only reason I keep it,” said Jacob as he stuffed it away. His words were quick and to the point—like he didn’t want to discuss it further. “As I was saying earlier,” he began, his hands at you as if to instruct the point, “you need to keep a control on your emotions. Nervousness will still your attacks and hinder any chance you have at taking down your targets. Think only of what is important and let that guide your attacks.”

“So you’re saying I should think less?” Your hand went back for the cane-sword he was soon passing to you once more.

Jacob stifled a small laugh with a crease of his wrinkled brow. “Let’s put it to the test, shall we?” He stood upright, arms crossed and gazed upon you as if about to ask you a few questions some teacher might in class. “Say I asked you to assassinate a target in Buckingham Palace?” He shrugged his shoulders to think of who he might mean. “A guard, perhaps, that is actually a Templar. What would go through your mind at this?”

You shrugged your shoulders as this was a hypothetical question. “Well, I…”

“Out with it. Say what comes to mind, and be honest, now.”

Sighing, you answered, “I would have to study my target to know where he’d be at what time on what day, survey the land, watch the patrol of the guards, try to be one step ahead of him, and see the best hiding spots—.” You could see him shaking his head at this point, making you stop in your words. “What? What did I say wrong?”

“You just wasted weeks on trying to assassinate a single target,” Jacob pointed out. “None of that will be logical in such a dire situation. You are over thinking it!” His hand back upon your shoulder, he shook it gently as if to put sense into you. “If you have the time to spare in reading up on your target, then do so. But certain circumstances call for action more so than a ‘what if’ scenario.”

You were confused. When would you know when a good moment was to attack without thought and the other not to?

“If anything threatens the crown, you should be quick to leap into actions and guard it as we’ve sworn to. You never know what a Templar, of all people, could be planning or even some deranged lunatic. Stronger and well thought out targets require a thought or two, but you still need to be mentally and physically quick. The longer you sit and think about what to do in any situation, the faster your nerve will leave you.” He paused forlornly at the idea with a concerned, saddened look upon his face. “You know what that means, right?”

Sighing out your frustrations, you looked down at your feet as if you were being scolded. “That means you have to kill or exile me for compromising the Brotherhood…if anything like that were to occur.”

Seeing the fear and sadness equally consume you, Jacob patted your back yet again to try and get you to focus. “Right. Now—.” he drew his cane-sword once more and stood in front of you. “—let’s do this again. Keep yourself loose and well guarded. Now, come at me.”

He told you not to hesitate or over think things, so you did without a second thought. It was a blind action, but one that was easily countered by a strike of his own sword. Jacob was easy to deflect your attack, and he stood there with his other arm lazily at his side.  Looking up at him there, he still seemed emotionless—as though every time you fought him, his emotions just drained from him and made Jacob a completely different person. Would you, in time, be this unfeeling…? It was a scary thought to you as you continued to try and break his defenses only to have the Master Assassin counterstrike every move you made.

“Your mind is wandering,” Jacob pointed out more than scolded, and when you paused in your attack, it was there he struck quick like a cobra by putting his boot to your stomach and shoving you down on the cold, dew coated ground.

The air was knocked from you, and the cane-sword was gone from your hand as you lacked the energy (and possibly desire) to wield it further. Breathing heavily with his weapon pointed to you, you gazed down the length of the sword with a raise of your brow. “S-Sorry,” you stuttered, unsure of what to really say beyond that.

“Casual thoughts that are not about your target or attack methods will be your enemy and your end,” Jacob reminded you. “Be rid of them.” His voice almost sounded heavy with knowledge of this. As though he too had repressed demons he refused to speak of. “They will do you no good.”

“Is that why you look so callous most times?” Honestly, you just had to ask. You didn’t mean for it to come out as an insult, but you flinched all the same at how they sounded.

“It is my job as an Assassin to be focused and unfeeling to those I mark as my targets,” Jacob reminded you, sheathing his weapon and offering you his hand. “If my feelings get in the mix of things, I do a rubbish job at taking down my foes and anything that stands in my way.” With you to your feet, he continued with a slight raise of one brow. “It is also my job to make sure my feelings don’t get in the way of your training. If I show mercy upon you, you will learn nothing and get killed the moment you take to the field. I can’t allow that to happen, so it makes me a bit of a hard, uncaring arse, I guess.” Jacob chuckled softly at the last bit, showing just a bit of humor in the statement.

“You make it sound like emotions are an evil in this world,” you pointed out, finding it weird that he had this awkward stance upon them.

“Some can be,” Jacob answered cryptically, turning on his heels and motioning for you to follow him. “Come with me. I am sure some of the pubs are opening about now, and we can get something to drink at least.”

Alcohol was never your thing, but Jacob insisted that at least one would warm you and keep you energized and up to speed, so it almost became mandatory. The only nice thing about it all was being able to sit down and relax after trying to spar or stealth about London.

“So when will you give me my own Assassin gauntlet?” you asked as you tried to keep the first drink down with a cringe at the ungodly taste of the liquor.

Jacob laughed to himself as he saw you struggling again with your beer. At least he found it entertaining, you supposed. “When you prove yourself.” He took a long drink of his pint before putting the mug down on the table with an almost human look to him. When he wasn’t training it seemed his humanity came right back into him. It was some inner switch that you wondered if you’d be able to maintain someday. “I’d have to write the Council and ask them what they think, and it would be them that decide if you are worthy of being fitted for one.”

“I guess they don’t just hand them out as they see fit, eh?” you teased, drinking a bit more only to gag a bit at the flavor. “God, this stuff is awful. Tastes like dirt to me.”

The Assassin laughed upon the rim of his drink before taking another sip. “It gets your blood pumping, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t ignore that idea. It did fill you with energy, but why did it have to be as pleasant as sucking down oil? “I can’t argue your logic, Mr. Frye.” Trying your best to finish the rest of it, you found it almost impossible to chug as he was and just let it sit there in the container a bit longer. “What next after this?”

“More training with the cane-sword,” Jacob said quietly so nobody would hear him. “We’ll see if the beer eases up your body.”

“You mentioned a sister,” you commented, and as soon as you said ‘sister’, you almost regretted it as Jacob looked at you as if you insulted him. “I…I was just curious about her since you keep her pocket watch on you.”

“She’s in India, her name is Evie Green, and that’s all you need to know,” he said simply, trying to keep his mouth busy with the rest of his drink in case you were to ask more questions promptly after his quick response.

Hearing a different last name, you couldn’t help but question still. “So she got married?”

“That’s usually what it means when a woman’s last name changes, yes.” Jacob sounded disgruntled as he dug into his pockets and pulled out a slip of paper he had been mulling over for days now in terms of a local artifact he had taken interest of and kept from you like some secret you weren’t allowed to be in on. Folding the paper quickly, he sighed and shook his head. “Anyways, are you ready?”

You nodded. Finishing half of the drink was better than nothing at all anyways, right? Besides, Jacob paid for it, so you didn’t care to down the beverage as intended. “Yes, let’s get on it then.”

The training went roughly the same. Your senses were a bit sharper, but it felt like it only lasted so long and time and time again you ended up on the ground or without your weapon. It was becoming so difficult to spar with him. He was a Master Assassin, yes, but you worried one wrong move could hurt him.

Seemed Jacob was growing impatient. When you failed for the past hour or so, he reached through your usage of the weapon and grabbed your wrist harshly in disappointment. It made you tense up at how rough his hold was. “Stop being so scared!” he hissed angrily. “I can recover from any attack you land on me. Have faith in yourself and know you won’t hurt me. Now, disarm me!” Jacob ordered, pushing you away from him to try again.

Gathering your anger towards his words into your hold, you started to madly swing at him in a fury of swipes in hopes to disarm him or show him that you weren’t scared—that you could do this. However, Jacob yet again, disarmed you and grabbed your shirt collar to bring you close to him as if threatening to smash his head against yours as a means to cripple your defenses further. “Again with emotions controlling you.” He probably saw the fire in your eyes, and he sighed with a shake of his head. “Stop taking everything so personally, or you’re going to get yourself bloody killed!”

When he released you, you straightened yourself up and shook your head. “You seem like a machine when you are in this Assassin stance,” you said, almost chastising him as you motioned to him wildly with annoyance littering your tone. “Like…your emotions are some switch to turn on and off at will!”

“That’s what you need to learn to do!” Jacob shouted in return, disappointed in your failed attempts to get anything done that morning. The sun was almost coming up over the horizon. That would mean going on to something else soon, as he couldn’t waste time with one thing all day. “You need to learn to control your emotions. Control them, and being an Assassin will be that much easier!”

“I don’t want to be cold and heartless like an Assassin,” you insisted, sheathing the cane-sword to be done with it for the day.

“Is that what you think I am?” Jacob asked, taking offense in your choice of words. “Even when I am **_not_** training you?”

Slapping your arms to your side, you shook your head at him twisting your words. “No, that’s not what I meant. I am just—.”  You paused to try and think of a better way of phrasing it. “—I don’t want my emotionless to consume me…”

“Is that what you think will happen?” Jacob asked, putting away his cane-sword as well. Seems he figured training with it was done for the day. Seeing the worry spread across your face, he placed his hand reassuringly on your shoulder with a shake of his head. “If that happens, then I failed to keep you grounded. A student is only as good as their teacher. Remember that.”

He was trying to comfort you, and it made you smile for a moment. Jacob had a heart, but during the training it was so hard to see with how strict he could be. Were all Assassins this rough when training their underlings? You’d never know. London was lacking when it came to Assassins, so you would never know how to ask another. Shaking the thoughts from your mind, you asked: “What now?”

“Scaling buildings,” Jacob answered, pointing to the one not far from you both. “With or without your gauntlet, it is best to know how to climb buildings to get to where you need to go faster.”

“Yes, but it would be easier with the gauntlet and the rope launcher you have on it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“Don’t whine,” Jacob jabbed with a teasing smirk. “Look, I’ll even scale it with you without using the gauntlet. Sound fair?”

You merely nodded as you watched him casually use the small crevices in boards and windowsills to get where he needed to go. It was like it was second nature to him, and…of course it would be. How many years had he been doing this? Since he was a kid? You couldn’t remember his back story all that well, but you knew this was all ingrained in his mind at an early age. It felt like it took him under five minutes to get from the ground up to the roof of the building that was shadowing you both from the morning rays of the sun. It was quite impressive.

“Alright, seem easy?” Jacob asked, looking down at you from where he was squatting at the top.

“I…guess…?” you said in return with a shrug of your shoulders. You didn’t want to admit it, but you had a slight fear of heights. Maybe now might be a good time to mention it?

“Only way for you to learn is to try, so come on then,” Jacob instructed with a wave of his hand.

Maybe not. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him something such as that. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad in the end? Your fingers digging into the areas you saw him use, you hefted yourself up slowly bit by bit. The housing you were both climbing on wasn’t that tall, but the other buildings about London could be worse. As you were halfway up, you nearly lost your footing and panicked slightly when you repositioned yourself.

It was then you decided to look downwards. Bad idea.

The ground had never felt so far from you, and you cringed to yourself while holding onto the windowsill your hands had found for dear life. “What’s this then?” Jacob called to you from where he was watching, and you slowly looked up to meet his gaze. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“N-No!” you shouted back, lying to him as you didn’t want to hear his criticizing over your weakness.

“Then get up here! I don’t have all day!” he called out to you, humor apparently on his tone as he wanted you to prove him wrong.

You grumbled to yourself. Closing your eyes tightly and trying to gather your nerve, you worked the rest of your way up in a hasty manner as you wanted to be done with it. When the roof came within sight, you moved your arms upon the harsh stone roof with a hiss of dismay. Fingers digging in the rooftop where you were able to hoist yourself up and over finally, you found yourself on your hands and knees for a second to gather your courage once more.

Jacob offered his hand to you to help you stand. He had that crooked smirk on his face, and you knew that was him going to be a wise ass. “Not afraid of heights you say?” he questioned with a small laugh tickling his throat.

“No,” you panted, trying to brush off the accusation. “I just—I lost my footing and that was—.” It was then Jacob turned you around. Holding your hands behind your back, he pushed your head forwards to make you look down at the ground just over the railing of the roof. “OKAY!” you shouted quickly, as you worried you might lose your balance and fall even if Jacob’s tight hold was upon you then. “I am afraid of heights! Stop it!”

“Oi, I really got to force the truth from you, don’t I?” He laughed to himself, helping you backwards to safety. “You really think I’d let you fall?” Jacob questioned with a shrug of his brow. “I am not that much of an uncaring prick.”

“And holding me over the edge of a roof isn’t being one?” you scolded quickly, hand to your heart to try and stop it from thumping against your chest.

“You were lying to me,” Jacob reminded you. “That is the worst thing you could do to me, as I won’t know what to start off slower on as well as what to focus more on.” When you didn’t respond, he continued as he stood over you in his ‘teacher mode’ since you found sitting to be ideal about then. “Scaling buildings is a necessity for any Assassin. You can walk all you want to or take a carriage if you feel it faster, but this takes out a lot of the troubles of both.”

“I can’t do this, Jacob,” you insisted with a shake of your head. “Being able to handle a weapon is one thing, but to conquer a fear like this is—.”

“—is doable if you want to learn!” your master interjected eagerly, his arms across his chest. Hand to his mouth to think on how to tackle this situation, he hummed in thought. “We’ll start small. We’ll scale buildings like this now till you feel comfortable with bigger ones.” He saw you shake your head, and it was there he reached his foot out to lightly tap you with it to make you stop being so down in the mouth about the idea. “I’ll stand underneath you, so if you fall, I’ll be there.”

“You won’t always be there to catch me though,” you reminded him, thinking ahead at the future.

“No,” Jacob responded seriously. “However, that’s why you get comfortable first, and then you start working your way up and without me there.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Now, get off your arse. We have more training to do.”

There wasn’t much more you could say about that. It was a necessary evil to conquer, and Jacob was going to see to it that you overcame this weakness. He only worked on trying to get you to understand scaling for half an hour at most, as he could tell how scared you were at just being a few feet off of the ground, and Jacob didn’t want to push it.

Taking back up sword fighting, Jacob finally called it quits when it was time to eat and relax for a spell. “Alright, enough of that,” he called to you, sounding winded himself as he was a bit satisfied with your attempts that round. “It’s best we get something to eat and then call it a day for now.”

“So soon?” you asked curiously, as sometimes the training would go well into the night. “Am I not doing well?” Sheathing the cane-sword, you saw him pull out that sheet of paper he was looking at earlier.

“No, (Y/N),” said Jacob, his tone heavy with thought before he put the creased paper away again in his coat. “I have somewhere to be later this evening is all. And you are doing fine, by the by.” His hand to your back, he urged you onwards. “C’mon then. I don’t need you dropping from exhaustion.”

You found the both of you back at the pub that mid-afternoon, and as the two of you mused over your meals, it was then the gray clouds and foreboding heaviness of a storm started. At least it decided to storm once training was done. It was hard to keep a decent grip on anything when the weather was out of sorts.

“Eat, will you?” Jacob instructed, as he saw you watching the rain patter and cascade across the windows nearby where you both sat. “It’s going to get cold, and cold meat is the bloody worst.”

You smiled at Jacob’s order, but happily ignored it all the same as you shifted your eyes from him to the rain again. “I just like the rain. It keeps me calm, really.”

“Well, you’re living in the best place for that,” Jacob chuckled, his words nearly muffled behind his napkin.

“So I’ve been told,” you chuckled, finally pulling away from the rain to enjoy in the early dinner that Jacob had bought for you. “It will be hell getting back home, though.”

“I can hail a carriage for you,” offered Jacob as he finished his meal in record time, causing him to open that pocket watch again (or perhaps it was a different one this time). You couldn’t tell as he held it out of sight. “Will you be alright for the rest of the day?”

You stifled a laugh as you continued to eat your meal. “You act like my father. Of course I’ll be fine.”

Jacob shrugged his shoulders with a twist of his mouth. “I know living all alone isn’t jolly, so I just thought I’d be gentlemanly and ask.”

“I appreciate that,” you whispered, finally finishing your food and heading out under the overhang just outside the entrance of the pub with Jacob beside you.

Jacob instructed for you to wait out of the touch of the rain as he stopped a Rook carriage and instructed the driver on where to go over the torrential downpour. Turning to you, he waved you over as he held the door open for you—ushering you inside quickly to keep you out of the weather’s grasp best he could. “Remember to get to sleep early tonight,” he reminded you as he stayed outside the carriage, continuing to get soaked. “As far as I am aware, I won’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, so we’ll be training longer.”

All you could do was nod. It was something he asked of you ever so often, but it wasn’t like you could get your body to comply willingly at times. With the door to the carriage shut, Jacob’s hand hit the wooden surface of it and you heard him shout ‘on with you’ to the driver. Your body jerked from the sudden movement of the horse taking off to your home. Looking over your shoulder and out the back window, you watched as Jacob hurried across the street and disappeared into the busy streets of London.

You didn’t know him all that well, and a part of you wished you could just ask him once what drove him onward when it came to being an Assassin. A man in his forties never felt so…old before. He always acted tired and like there was some small thread within him that could very well break at any second. Maybe it had something to do with his sister, Evie? Seemed whenever you mentioned her, he got defensive and hurt. Did they leave on bad terms?

With your own roof soon sheltering you from the rain (sort of, as parts of the roof were leaking), you found yourself falling face first into your bed. The idea of rest was comforting, but it was too early to think of that now, you felt, so you struggled to keep on till exhaustion would get the better of you.

 

\--

 

Training continued as usual for the coming days. Dealing with the cane-sword was becoming easier, so Jacob swapped weapons when he felt you were well versed in it and moved onwards to the kukri blade. After settling your nerve with the idea of using a sharp weapon in combat, the kukri blade felt easier even if its reach was shorter. Admittedly, you didn’t quite care for it much. So far of the two, the cane-sword felt your better weapon.

“Much better,” he praised breathlessly from the attempts to stop your attacks anyway he could think of. “Seems you’re getting the hang of it faster than I anticipated.” Jacob ran his fingers through his messy hair, seemingly tired that day for some reason.

“Something wrong?” you asked, curious as to why he seemed so exhausted.

“Nah,” he insisted, waving the thought away. “I was met with letters from the Council and Evie, so I was up for awhile, and I am a bit out of sorts.” You watched as he massaged between his eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but we need to continue nonetheless.”

Again, you resisted the urge to ask about Evie and twiddled your thumbs against the designs on the hilt of the kukri blade. “What did the Council have to say?” you asked instead. Jacob could be hard to deal with when awake, and you didn’t want to press his buttons if he was exhausted no matter how much your curiosity gnawed at you.

Jacob smiled to you a crooked smile with a raise of his brow. “I will be sending you to their headquarters come this Friday,” he said, triumph in his voice. “You will be fitted with your Assassin gauntlet.” Right when you were about to show victory in the idea, he raised his hand. “You have to complete a task first.”

Your body fell into defeat and you sighed. “What?” you asked, grumbling as you didn’t like the sound of that.

“Your first blooding,” Jacob answered.

You didn’t like the sound of that. “My…what…?”

“Blooding,” Jacob repeated, trying to remain upbeat regardless of the exhaustion that hung upon his back like a needy child. “It’s when you experience your first assassination. If you can prove you have the stomach to kill a man without hesitation, then the gauntlet is yours, and you will be on your way to becoming an Assassin yet.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as all that. Jacob made it seem easy, but then again…he had that emotional switch on his side. “Well…who will be my target? I don’t have anybody I can just randomly kill.”

“Indeed,” Jacob responded, gesturing at nothing in particular off to the side. “There is a Blighter gang stronghold that was being set up in The Strand. They overtook the Rooks there, and I want you with me to help take it back.”

Blighters were rarer and harder to find, and those that still retained the colors and traditions of staying with the Templars seemed to pop up like a bad habit now and again to try and take down Rook strongholds to gain a footing in London. Assassins weren’t as strong as they could be, of course, but even with the equally weakened Templars, it had become a standstill for the most part. It was like a chessboard on top a single, slender cylinder that was evenly balanced, and if one thing went wrong, it could tip in one or the other’s favor.

“O-Okay…When do we do this?” you asked curiously.

“You tell me,” instructed Jacob, ready to hear your response. “First blooding or not, you need to help me get this underway.”

You shrugged your shoulders and said the first thing to come to mind. “Then let’s go there and figure it out. It is better to assess the situation than do nothing at all, right?”

Jacob’s small smile was the only indication you had that you might have said the right thing. Moving to the side, he motioned to the nearby building. “Shall we?”

You were still adjusting to the idea of building scaling, but lately you had managed to do it on your own, but only on the smaller buildings. Gathering your courage, you nodded and kept the idea of the prize on your mind—that gauntlet was going to be yours one way or another.

Jacob didn’t stand underneath you, as he had been causally keeping himself away from the idea all together to let you adjust to climbing without his aid or comfort. You ignored the thought that he wasn’t there and quickly swung from the ground to the nearby windowsill and then launched to the next one and then up a few boards and to the rooftop in record time. It felt good to actually do that without help. Taking in a breath of victory, you turned to Jacob and motioned to him. “Let’s go!”

“I am right behind you,” he called up to you as he used his trick glove to get to the roof faster than you could.

It didn’t take long to get to the Blighter stronghold with Jacob. All through the climb from building to building, you just ignored the idea of looking down as your tutor told you not to. The situation felt a bit dire with just the two of you and a few Rooks up against, what appeared to be, twenty Blighters. Jacob wasn’t going to help you with the puzzle until you told him what he felt was the best course of action.

“Gunmen,” you said, pointing to the roofs eagerly. “You’re better at roof jumping than me.” Turning to Jacob, you looked to him curiously. “Do you think you can take them out?”

“Easy enough,” said Jacob, listening with interest on how you purposed to do this. “What about you? What will you be doing?”

“With the Rooks we have with us, I can attack the ones on the ground after you deal with the roof problem,” you reminded your teacher. “We just need to get the gunmen out of our way.”

Jacob’s clothes rustled slightly as he shrugged. “Remember, (Y/N),” he began, getting to his feet, “you have to kill one of them at least before I can tell the Council you are worthy of the gauntlet.” Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of white fabric and handed it over to you. “Dip their blood in this, and show it to me later if I don’t see you accomplish such a feat.”

Swallowing hard, you wished there was some way you could just lie about all of this as your nerve was starting to wane. As you tucked the white fabric away into the lining of your own coat, you looked to Jacob when he grabbed your shoulder firmly. “Remember: don’t hesitate, and don’t let your thoughts and emotions rule you. Think of only what is important.”

Nodding at his reminder, you patted his back to let him know it was now or never. “Let’s do this then.”

And so you waited…waited for Jacob to give the signal that he had taken out all the men and women on the roof before you swung down as quickly as you could to motion to the Rooks hiding out of sight just around the corner. When the group of you turned the curve, the Blighters readied their weapons and the collision of the two sides became a bloodbath.

You kept to your fists and cane-sword to deal with your enemies. You had throwing knives in your pocket in case you needed a substitute hidden blade idea, but that was it. As the battle progressed, you got off easy with most of the Rooks taking care of business, but as the Blighters thinned, you noticed one about to get away, and you couldn’t let this event end without killing someone…he had to do.

Running up behind him, you used the hooked beak of the cane-sword to trip up your target by connecting it with his ankle and made the medium build man fall on his face. He tried to scurry over onto his back right when you pinned him to the ground with your body and had your throwing knife in your hand that you had plucked from your back pocket—threatening to plunge it into his neck. But, in the end, that’s all you could do…threaten. Your mind was racing as you saw this living human being underneath you, pleading for mercy. Perhaps he saw you stalling and, in that moment, witnessed a window with how weak you were thus his words of ‘have mercy’.

Opening your mouth to speak, you felt something come up from behind you. A foreign hand on your wrist, you hadn’t a moment to think as the person grabbing you forced your throwing knife hand downward and plunged the weapon into the man’s neck—ending him slowly.

The sight was otherworldly. Never would you imagine a man lying there bleeding out over your weapon and hand to become something you had to adjust to. Your mouth opened—perhaps to scream—but nothing happened as all your lower lip did was tremble as you felt and heard the Blighter take his last breath. You almost felt like you weren’t you for a moment in time…as though you were watching it all from somewhere else.

Heaving breathing near your ear, you heard Jacob speak in his attempts to bring you back to yourself. “You’re fine.” Jerking your head slightly towards him, you couldn’t really see his eyes as he had his hood up. You could see he was breathless, and eventually, he removed his hand from yours. His hands on either side of your shoulders, he squeezed you there. “Remove it.”

Not needing to be told twice, you quickly jerked your blooded hand and throwing knife back. You wanted to vomit at the sight. Blood, skin, and muscle seemed to drench the weapon you held now. Jacob said something, but you were so fixated on looking at what you did that you didn’t react right away.

“(Y/N)!” he said again, a bit louder this time to get your attention. “Get the cloth out and wipe his neck.”

Flinching at his demand, you did as he asked and quickly pressed the cloth upon his neck to obtain the blood…it felt like some sick ritual to marvel at the life you ended. Was Assassin training really going to be for you in the end if this event alone was so traumatic? “J-Jacob…?” you began, as you knew he was still there holding you.

“Mm?”

“Does it…always feel this…this…” the words couldn’t even surface, you had to throw-up. At least Jacob was kind enough to keep your hair out of your way in the event.

“Does it always feel this bad? Sometimes,” answered Jacob as he let you get what you needed out of your system. “Assassins that were born under the Assassin heritage have it easier than people such as you who offer to subject yourself to the training later on. I was a lot more eager than most to take to the field, so my first blooding will be different than yours. Don’t compare yourself to me,” he insisted, letting you finish before helping you to your feet. “If you do that, you’re going to get discouraged,” Jacob continued upon making you look at him.

“I just lost my damn lunch all because I couldn’t handle it,” you whispered, shameful of the event. “Does this get easier?” You looked to him pleadingly in the matter.

“Always,” Jacob was quick to answer. “Just as it was with you learning to conquer your fear over heights, this too will come with time.”

“What…what will you tell the Council?” You couldn’t really say you passed. That was the worst thing you could have done, and you almost compromised the mission to take over the Blighter’s stronghold. What would happen to your nerve if you let it slip away against Templars?

“That you passed,” said Jacob simply. “I have faith that, as time goes on, you’ll get better.”

You could only hope that would be so. Regardless of Jacob’s reassuring in it all, you still felt like a damn failure. After the Rooks were able to take back the space once occupied by Blighters, Jacob escorted you away back to your lodgings so that you could calm yourself after such a distressing event. He made and offered tea to you, feeling that would be the best medicine for the time being.

“Thank you,” you accepted, with a steady and slow breath. “You always tell me not to let my emotions get the better of me and to focus on what is important, but…you never told me what was important. Is it the mission? My target?”

Jacob shook his head, sitting down opposite to you in an old chair. “Depends on what you deem important,” he answered, fingers drumming against the warm cup he held. “For me, it can sometimes be the mission, but it is also my sister and the people of London.” And there it was again. You saw him become almost melancholy at mentioning her again. “I fight for those lives and know I cannot screw things up, or I can harm them all in the end…lose them all.”

You wanted to comfort him, but how could you when you didn’t know what kept triggering his sadness?

“Evie Green is my twin sister,” he finally came out to say, giving a heavy sigh at the beginning of his affirmation. “When you come into this world with someone always there beside you, you have a sort of connection that you can’t really describe.” Jacob laughed softly, though it was weak at best. “She got on my bloody nerves, just as I am sure I did her when our father passed, and we worked together on the field. As much as I tried to resent her when we took down Crawford, Evie was the only part of me that was logical in some ways.”

He paused in his words, and you wanted to tell him it was fine—he didn’t have to continue, but you resisted. You wanted to hear more about what was causing him to act so off at times.

“When she left with Henry Green to India, it was like a part of me was missing,” continued Jacob somberly. “I acted fine about it for awhile until I started falling apart years down the line, finding comfort in alcohol mostly. Going to see her now and again wasn’t enough, and our letters take so fucking long to get to one another that it’s almost like some other force takes pleasure in our separation. Her pocket watch is something of hers I refuse to be rid of, as it’s all I have next to a few measly letters and photographs. It is my one link to sanity, it feels.” Again, he paused and began to wipe his mouth with the palm of his hand before moving it to his face to hide his eyes while bowing his head in repressive sadness. “God dammit…”

Never had you seen your mentor at his weakest like this. It made Jacob feel and appear more human, and while it was comforting, it was equally upsetting to see such a hero fall to emotions and feelings of the past and present. Putting your teacup down and off to the side, you moved towards him to hug him whether he wanted it or not. “I am sorry,” you whispered, cradling the back of his head as you tried to sooth his sorrows. “I might not be able to offer much, but…I am here…”

You heard Jacob laugh briefly, but it was a laugh of thankfulness, really. “I appreciate that,” you heard his soft voice respond against your chest.

 

\--

 

You were sent to the Council to be fitted for your own assassination gauntlet. The Council took notice in how you moved your wrist and hand about to rig the device to your muscle movements accordingly. It felt weird having something so heavy on your hand and arm, but Jacob aided you in using it when you both returned home to Whitechapel.

Using it to grapple rooftops made things much easier. Your fear was still there, but you did your best to keep it at bay. Besides, the worst thing you could do for yourself was not continue to beat that caged beast by scaling buildings as instructed.

“Not bad,” Jacob praised one day as you finished your training with the hidden blade and using the rope launcher device. “But question is, can you scale bigger buildings such as Big Ben?”

You felt your legs nearly give out at the idea. “Jacob, that’s…that’s not funny. Why would I need to scale Big Ben?” you asked with a nervous laugh.

“For any reason,” answered your mentor as he ushered you onwards. “You need to be comfortable climbing buildings of every size. Big Ben is no different.”

“But it’s the tallest building in London!” you pointed out, feeling nearly faint from the thought.

“So far,” Jacob reminded you, as he always mused the idea of something bigger coming along. “Now, follow me, please.”

The sight of the clock almost made you want to faint. It felt like a monster compared to most buildings you had to traverse upon. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” you whispered between the two of you.

“Come on, now,” Jacob scoffed, nudging you with the back of his hand. “Don’t piss yourself. I’ll be right there with you.” You couldn’t even say anything to the thought as Jacob was already heading onwards to the clock and starting to climb it. “Let’s move!”

Sighing, you followed suit. “Just don’t look down…don’t look down…” you mumbled again and again to try and get your nerve together as you took up pursuit behind your teacher.

It was a long climb. Every now and again you had to stop to try and gather your nerve. Jacob would watch from above and jab at you to try and encourage you onwards, but it was honestly only making you angry and panicked.

“It’s a giant ass CLOCK…not a roof!” You reminded him as you were horrified at the idea of traveling any further up Big Ben as he was trying to rouse your courage. The world felt miles down below you, and every time you looked down, you swallowed, having your saliva roughly ebb the dryness in your throat. Your grip on the clock was so tight, your knuckles were no doubt white.

“It’s a tall object we are scaling! Same thing!” Jacob said teasingly over the roaring of the wind. He could no doubt see how horrified you were, and in such a case, he reached for your hand and pulled you close to his body. “There now,” he calmed you over the cries of the commotion below and the rough nature of the wind. “Look lively now!” Jacob insisted, having you wrap my arms just below his neck before using his gauntlet to head further up Big Ben and to the top with you in tow.

“I-I thought I was supposed to scale this!” you cried out to him as you held on tightly.

“You will one day,” Jacob smirked as he finally made it to the top to help you down and off of him. “I’ll make bloody sure of it.” Seeing you acting a bit wobbly, he grabbed your shoulder to support you better with a sideways smirk. “You feel alright?”

“When we get on the ground…I swear…” you panted, hands on your knees with a shake of your head. “…I am going to punch you!” With him snickering at your words, you pushed him away irritably. “I would now, but…I need you to get back down.”

“Why do you need me?” he asked with a chuckle, making his way over to the decorative railing of the upper part of the clock. Honestly, the both of you could see for miles the clock was so large. “You can easily scale down. You have the gauntlet to help you now. Not once has it jammed—I swear it.”

“Like people, devices are unpredictable, Jacob,” you scolded, trying to be lighthearted in it all, but it was horribly difficult when you were so far in the air. You did everything you could to just try and adjust. Never did you want to let that fear out of its cage again just from climbing a higher building.

Jacob chuckled at your words, moving to the other side of the railing he was leaning against prior. “Alright. I will go down first, and you follow behind, yeah?”

“J-Jacob!” you stuttered, wanting him to help you rather than aid you down this monster of a clock.

He raised his hand to your words, not wanting to hear it as he slipped downward a bit out of view, prompting you to come over and watch him as he started to work his way partially down Big Ben. “Come on! Get a move on!”

You knew it was either do it or be stuck up there. Rolling your eyes and gathering your determination, you swore to yourself before swinging your leg over and starting to work your way after him ever so cautiously. Again, you put a death grip on this unmovable object. The wind was your worst enemy as it continued to beat against you when you both traversed downwards.

As the two of you continued onwards, things seemed to go smoothly until the sound of a bullet recoiling off of the tower caught your attention. It made your blood run cold and your heart beat wildly in your chest as that sound was horribly close to your head. “J-Jacob? What’s going on! Who is shooting at us?” You dared not look. If you tried to do so, you’d fall.

“Fuckin’ Blighters!” Jacob swore angrily, and you heard him firing back.

However, in that moment, you heard a sound that made you panic without even looking. Jacob sounded as though he had lost his balance and his rope launcher recoiled from above you. Hearing such a thing made you turn to watch…watch in horror as you saw Jacob Frye falling backwards and several feet towards the ground.  
  
“ ** _JACOB!_** ” you screamed, reaching for him, but only for a moment as you almost felt yourself lose your own balance.

You felt helpless as all you could do was watch him fall. While there was a hay cart below to catch him, he hit it so off kilter and with force that it broke the cart and hay spilled everywhere…the pocket watch Evie had given to Jacob rolling from his hand you could see there on the ground near the men responsible.

“Oh God…oh **_GOD_** …!” you wanted to cry, but anger rushed from your head to your toes when you saw the Blighters heading towards Jacob’s body to check to see if he was dead. Using the rope launcher to latch onto one of the decorative arches upon Big Ben you were on, you actually jumped from where you were and had your gun out and ready to kill those that had harmed your mentor.

In your blind and numb rage, you shot at them eagerly. There were three, and you managed to headshot two of them—killing them instantly. The other tried to take you down with several eager shots of his own revolver, but he missed as you fell in his direction. When you got close enough, you retracted the rope launcher device and engaged the hidden blade…the blade’s tip embedding within the man’s skull with a sickening crunch of a sound as it broke through bone as your knees and body used his own figure as a means to land safely on the ground.

His blood staining your face, you took it unwaveringly as you jerked back the blade in anger. You cared not for the brain matter and blood that stained it now, for you had other things to focus on and worry over. Turning quickly to Jacob, you pulled him out of the hay and tried to look him over.

His mouth was bleeding and there was a head injury from what you could see. You tried not to panic…that was the worse thing you could do. Moving close to his blood stained lips, you tried to see if he was breathing, and it was there you felt hope touch your skin as his breath caressed you from his partially parted mouth.

“H-Help…I need help!” you shouted eagerly to whoever would listen, scared to move Jacob as you might hurt him worse. As people began to hurry and gather around the incident, you screamed to any who would listen. “Someone get a doctor!”

 

\--

 

The doctors called it a coma, and it was a word you never heard at all, but what it meant was more than frightening to grasp. Jacob was very much alive, figuratively speaking, but who knew if he’d be like that forever. With medicine still primitive, it was only a matter of time before they would deem him incurable and…kill him. They could only give him a window of two months to respond to anything they were to do, and if he didn’t come around, he would have to be put to sleep.

You checked in on him every day, but it was so hard to see him lying there like that. It caused you to spend most of your moments out and about London to try and ignore the thought that you would lose Jacob Frye, but it was always there…lingering in the back of your mind…

Heading back to the scene of the crime, you looked up at Big Ben and swore to yourself at how it all happened…why did it have to happen? Jacob was always so careful and usually one step ahead of everything. But now…

“He brought me here to make me overcome my fears,” you reminded yourself, fondling with the glove you wore. With what courage you could gather, you used the tricked glove in your possession and started to work your way up Big Ben.

Once again, fear crept upon you, but you refused to let that be your downfall as you wanted to prove to yourself that you could do this without help. When your foot slipped, you almost lost your courage, but you reminded yourself that Jacob could very well be watching, and you weren’t going to stop yourself…if you could conquer this, then Jacob Frye could conquer a coma.

Soon you were at the top of Big Ben…alone, yes…but you did it, and for that, you took pride in yourself. Watching the carriages below speed past, you sighed to yourself as that memory of your time upon Big Ben with Jacob continued to play into your head as well as the tragic fall he took. “Jacob…why? Why did you have to be so damn careless…?” Arms overlapping the railing of Big Ben above the face of the clock, you rested your head against them with a heaving sob.

When you ventured back to the hospital one day, the nurses encouraged you to try and talk to him—reminding you that he was still there somewhere. He just needed someone to help him through this darkened time. “Jacob,” you whispered close to him, “it is me…(Y/N).” you were hoping your voice wasn’t trembling as bad as your lower lip was. “You’ve got to wake up.”

You paused. You weren’t sure what else to really say. What could bring him around? To still your lip, you bit it ever so gently before finding the nerve to continue. “We need you…The Rooks need you…I know you’ll hate me for bringing her up, but, you know Evie needs you as well.”  It was then and there you remembered the pocket watch that fell from him when he took his fall. Digging into your coat pocket, you pulled it out and, after flipping his palm over and open, you placed the intricate watch into his touch before clasping his fingers tightly upon it. Maybe it would do some good…? Nothing seemed to be changing, really.

Shaking your head and collapsing under your emotions, you rested your head on your overlapping arms upon his bedside and began to cry. You’d give anything…anything to hear that voice of his again. When you felt a hand upon your head later, you just assumed it was someone coming in to check on you, so you didn’t budge right away under its touch—only did the voice that shortly accompanied it roused you from your actions.

“You always were…the rousing speaker,” Jacob’s voice taunted, causing you to raise your head quickly. His voice was strained and full of pain from what you could tell, but you didn’t care at that moment, as you were just happy to see him awake.

“Jacob! Jacob, you’re awake!” you praised, moving in to hug him gently as you knew he was still recovering.

“Mmph!” he grunted at your embrace. “Easy there, (Y/N). I am still quite sore from…whatever happened…”

His mind was no doubt jostled after that fall. The doctor even warned he might have slight amnesia when it came to it and not recall what even happened. “Thank God you’re alright…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you…!” you hiccupped, wiping your tears from your eyes best you could.

“Probably be crying as you are now,” Jacob continued with a sarcastic look to him as he was showing he was just making light of the situation.

You shook your head with a sarcastic laugh. “Just remind me to kick your ass for all of this later.” Thinking back on your accomplishments while he was out cold, you reached for his wrist and held it tightly since he was still weakly clasping the pocket watch you put there earlier. “I scaled Big Ben without you.”

Jacob raised his brow at that bit of news while his fingers found his sister’s trinket there in his grasp finally, and he started to move it back to his face to gaze upon it with a relieved sigh. “Did you now?” he asked with a weary smile, turning to gaze upon you. “I guess I should be out cold more often.” Seeing the unamused look on you, no doubt, he reached over to hold your hand reassuringly. “I am joking, (Y/N). I am proud of you. I told you that if you focused on what truly mattered you’d get things done.”

“Funny how that thing had to be you,” you confessed honestly, moving to kiss the top of his head as tears of relief stained your cheeks.


	2. The Assassin's Anxious Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter to The Fall, where Jacob starts to fall for the reader while the reader works on trying to help Jacob heal over the accident and being without his sister! Will be NC-17 rating!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

Jacob had taken awhile to get himself back on his feet after his fall from Big Ben. Regardless of him insisting he was alright to continue with training you and taking back to the field, you still kept a watch on him. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you felt like an overbearing parent to him with how often you kept on about his health and well being.

“I am not as old as all of that,” he insisted to you one day as he was merely enjoying his time off from any leads whatsoever just within the comfort of a Rook stronghold in Whitechapel. If he wasn’t in his lodgings, he was usually found about the street just wandering about as if to wait for the right information to cross his path. “Besides, it only knocked my head about a bit.” He absentmindedly rubbed the right side of his head at the thought.

“I nearly lost you, Jacob,” you reminded him, relieved that thought never came to pass. “The least you could do is just relax for a day or two at home.”

You saw him stifle a laugh as he leaned forwards on the old, empty boxes he was sitting upon. “And leave everything to you, (Y/N)?” Jacob smirked, checking the mechanism on his gauntlet for the hundredth time with a simple movement of his muscles to make the blade eject. “Don’t be daft. Scaling Big Ben was impressive, and I am proud of you for it, (Y/N), but that doesn’t make you an Assassin yet. You are still my apprentice.”

You threw your arms up in the air. He was impossible when it came to asking him to take it easy. “You have other Assassins besides me to aid in the care of London, **_master_**.” He could tell you were mocking him, as it was upon saying that title he looked up at you from where he was busy checking his glove over and over to be sure nothing of it was damaged from the fall. “Why not leave it to them?”

His eyes remained upon you as he let the blade take rest back within its home. Relaxing his body, he hunched over slightly once more as if to ponder the idea, but you had a feeling he was either going to be snarky or to the point when he responded to you.

“Yes, let me just leave London in the care of three other Assassins I have that outrank you, (Y/N),” he chuckled, raising his brow to the thought as he saw no light in the situation. “London requires more care than that. I won’t let it fall back into the grasp of the Templars, and that is my worry should I remain in bed much further given the Blighter strongholds resurfacing in my absence.”

Snarky it was. “You’re such an ass sometimes,” you scolded, turning to take your leave of him. “Don’t blame me if you collapse from that head injury of yours!” At this point, you were practically shouting over your shoulder. “I did warn you!”

Even if you could hear him calling your name, you ignored him. If he was going to disregard you, you would gladly return the favor with your fists clenched tightly at your sides.

You took comfort in your home. There wasn’t much to be done, and even if there were still Blighter strongholds up and about London lately, you’d rather wait for Jacob to be better than ask your mentor a way to go about it. He could gripe at you all he wanted, but you weren’t going to endanger his life.

As the rain came down that evening, you reclined against your one and only comfortable chair to read for a bit. It would help settle your mind and at least take your focus off of Jacob and his stubborn behavior. However, as you took comfort in such a thought, that didn’t stop a knock from happening upon your front door…and there was only one person who visited you. Collapsing the book in your lap with a roll of your eyes and a sigh to follow, you marked your place and took to your feet to let Jacob in.

The door moaned on its hinges when you exposed your mentor standing there before you. “Can I help you?” you asked, barricading his way in with your own body as you wanted to know what he had to say for his behavior lately.

“May I come in first?” Jacob asked, wrinkling his brow disapprovingly at your willingness to keep him out.

Seeing the serious look on his face, you relented. At times, you had to remember he was your superior and to upset him was probably unwise. Pulling from the doorframe, you allowed Jacob into your home before closing the door behind him. Arms crossed upon your chest, you waited to hear his excuse when it came to his actions lately.

“I know you’re mad at me, (Y/N),” he said with a lighthearted although brief smile, which flickered upon his lips. “But you have to understand, without Evie here, I have to remain on top of things.”

You sighed and thought to yourself, _again with that_. His sister and her contribution would always be important to everyone living in London, but why couldn’t Jacob put more faith in the others he had trained? What had him so startled as of late where he couldn’t put such hope in his fellow Assassins?

He probably saw you weren’t to be swayed, so he continued as he pointed at nothing in particular. “You saw that there were more Blighter strongholds popping up in London under the control of the Templars, and I can’t let that continue, or we could lose our footing in this world!”

“Why are you so scared to put trust in us, Jacob?” you finally asked, cradling your elbows with a somber sigh to follow. You saw your mentor recoil at your question, but that wouldn’t stop you from demanding an answer. “Have you no conviction in the fact that you trained us well?”

“Bloody hell,” Jacob grumbled, rubbing his face with a nasally sigh at your question. Did you just hit another sore spot?

But it was then you realized he was hissing at pain and not your words (perhaps), and so you moved towards him in concern. Hurrying over to his side, you placed your hand on his shoulder. “Jacob? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” he hissed, though the lie was more obvious than ever with the look of discomfort written all over his aged face.

“Sit down,” you instructed, moving him to your chair you were in earlier. “What is wrong? Tell me, and don’t just lie to me, or I swear I will be mad.”

Jacob laughed weakly at your threat before managing to look at you for a moment. “My head bloody rings from time to time, that’s all, (Y/N).”

You could only imagine that wasn’t pleasant. However, the medicine that Jacob was asked to take was at his place and not yours. “Dammit,” you swore to yourself as you helped him up again. “Come on then—to bed with you.”

Apparently your mentor had little he could say on the matter as he took to his feet and allowed you to escort him to your bed for a moment. “Thank you,” he grunted as he tried to keep his boots off of your covers all the same as he didn’t want to dirty your sheets. “I promise it will go away. It usually **_does_** …!” Jacob strained the last word as a powerful pounding in his noggin caused him to.

“Quiet,” you ordered, grabbing at his boots, helping him out of them so he could rest on your bed as he desired. “If you keep pushing yourself like this, Jacob, London will be overtaken by the Templars and Blighters, because you’ll be too much of a mess to do much of anything,” you lightly scolded as you situated his legs back onto the covers.

“It is just a head injury at best, love,” Jacob scoffed as if to dismiss it as though it were a cold.

“And that doesn’t concern you at all?” you asked, flabbergasted by his comment. When he didn’t respond, you hovered over him with your arms on either side of Jacob. “You are staying here to get better, and that’s that.”

“So you can quiz me like the doctors did back at the hospital?” Jacob asked with a slight raise of his brow as he kept his other hand over the other side of his face to try and still the pain.

“You were in a bad state, Jacob,” you whispered with worry. Admittedly, he was. After he recovered from his coma, he had lost memory of a few things and even had a hard time being aware. It made you worried he was going to not recover from that fall. The doctors always had to ask him what time it was, what day it was, and other simple things to get his mind going again. You tried to shake your head of the memories as they haunted you even now. “It was scary to see you so helpless, and I hope you know that…”

Jacob didn’t respond right away as he was still dealing with his headache that was causing him a bit of agony. However, he was looking at you to see how distraught you were at just reliving the memories.

“Anyways,” you sighed, since he wouldn’t respond, and you were feeling awkward under his stare. “I’ll head to your house and get the medicine you need.”

“Mm,” Jacob began with a hum, “that won’t do. I finished off that medicine sometime ago. I just never bothered to go back to the apothecary to get more.”

“God dammit,” you swore angrily with a roll of your eyes. He was like a child at times. “Then I will get you more!” Walking over to the chair in your bedroom, you pulled your coat from its resting place to put on with a disappointed look at your mentor. “You better not leave here, or I swear, I am going to write the Council myself and let them know what’s been going on with you!”

Jacob wrinkled his brow as if surprised by your words and threaten to take act against him. “Would you now? You must really be in a tizzy if you’re thinking up the idea of doing such a thing.” He flinched again at the pounding in his head.

“I will be damned if the world thinks it is fair to take you from me,” you confessed, not meaning that how it may have sounded, but Jacob was the only one to really take you in and under his wing when you found yourself in London, so you viewed him as your support. “I’ll also be damned if you so much as move an inch from this bed for the coming days!”

And with that said, you took your leave to get the medicine you would need for the wounded Assassin.

 

 

 

You would return sometime later, as the local apothecary was quite the walk from where you lived. Whether or not Jacob had listened to you was still a mystery. He was a wild one, even in his older age. You had heard stories from other seasoned Rooks who said he used to be more rambunctious than what he had turned into, but even then, that part of him surfaced now and again from what you could tell. He still had his moments where he’d be adventurous and spontaneous, so you couldn’t say it bled completely from him.

Upon entering your home, you found yourself elated with inner relief that Jacob listened and had remained in bed. Apparently, he found some peace to drift off to sleep, as his eyes were closed and his hands folded upon his chest to show how relaxed he was. You didn’t have the heart to wake him, so you instead put the medicine down upon the nightstand.

“Back are you?” came Jacob’s voice, making you jump as you weren’t expecting him to wake up so quickly. Seeing you with your hand upon your chest, he smirked as he was looking at you now. “Gave you a fright, did I?” He took pride in that as he was grinning widely (and laughing softly) at you.

“Fuck you; I swear,” you moaned against your hands to try and remove the startled look and not give him the satisfaction. At his bedside, you studied him closely. “How is your head?”

He shrugged his shoulders as if it was unimportant. “Still ringing a bit, but it is at that stage where it will pass, love.”

You furrowed your brow to him since he rarely ever called you ‘love’. It seemed to be a reoccurring thing as of late, but you passed it off as him just being friendly. “You should take the medicine anyways,” you ordered as though you were his mother, taking to the kitchen to get a spoon.

He didn’t argue (for once), and you felt your mind and heart rest easy as he reclined back after ingesting the medicine moments later. You watched as he seemed content to just lie there for now. Honestly, you wouldn’t question such luck.

“I would imagine being without your gauntlet and being in something a bit more comfortable for bed would be ideal, Jacob,” you reminded him, as he was still just lying on top of the covers and not under them as he should be.

“You don’t have my nightwear here, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you with a nasally sigh. “Unless you want me sleeping in nothing at all, these clothes will have to do.”

The thought made you blush with embarrassment. All the same, you wanted him comfortable. “Then…let me take the gauntlet at least,” you instructed, reaching for it only to have Jacob pull away his left hand instinctively. “Come on now; don’t be such a—!” As he had moved it closer to above his head, you reached for it only to stumble over the bed and accidentally land on top of him to where he ‘oofed’ and said an ‘oh God’ in a joking manner at your weight upon him. “If you wouldn’t wiggle around like such a child, this wouldn’t happen!” you snapped at him playfully as you tried to grab the gauntlet from him at that moment.

You were successful as he had nowhere else he could really put his hand with you nearly straddling him to just keep him still. “I swear, you’re relentless,” Jacob chuckled breathlessly, as you had winded him earlier by accidentally landing on him.

“Like I said, Jacob, I worry about you.” You were being serious now as you looked at him with concern wrinkling your brow after you placed his gauntlet on the nightstand near the medicine. “You won’t take care of yourself, so somebody has to.”

“And you’re the one to do it, mm?” Jacob questioned, hands back to his chest with his fingers intertwined while looking to you curiously.

“I am the only one who can apparently put up with you when you’re like this.” You were joking, but also being slightly serious at the same time when you said such a thing.

“And what about the Templars and the Blighter strongholds?” he questioned, as his mind was still on business, it seemed.

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at his question while loaming over him. “I will contact the other Assassins, and they can handle it in your absence. If you feel they need more assistance than that, then you should write to the Council.”

“You know this bloody head pain is said to continue for months, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you, parroting what the doctors had told you and the others when it came to his health in the coming months. “I can’t be out of commission for that long.”

“No, but you haven’t exactly stayed off your feet for the first few weeks that the doctor instructed as soon as you were released from their care,” you criticized. When Jacob didn’t respond to that fact, you smirked at having him stumped. “Alright then. So, starting today we’ll keep you off your feet and make sure you don’t overdo it.”

“Yes, mum,” he teased, crossing his legs where he was resting. He kept his eyes closed to make sure none of the light from the candles or even from outside upset his head.

 

\--

 

The days went by smooth enough. Jacob, while a nuisance and a bit snappish when in pain, did as you suggested even if it ‘drove him mad’ to quote your mentor. He didn’t have a nightshirt like you thought he did when you went to grab up a few things at his home days ago. Apparently, he did practically sleep half-naked, and that was a bit alarming for you, as you never considered men to do such a thing.

“Doesn’t upset you, does it?” Jacob asked one evening as he was drinking the tea you had prepared for him in order to help him relax.

You shrugged your brow at his question. Did it really matter what you thought? You just wanted him comfortable. “Well, I mean…if you enjoy sleeping in only your underwear, I guess I have no say?”

Jacob stifled a laugh as he took another sip of his tea boldly. “It’s more comfortable to me. Cotton rubbing against my body doesn’t do wonders for me when I sleep.” He looked at you accusingly in a playful manner all the same. “Besides, not like you’ve not seen it before given my time in the horrid hospital bed.”

Honestly, that was true, but the circumstances were different. All you could think to do was shrug your shoulders at his remark as you finished off your own tea.

With silence coming between you both, he nodded to you curiously. “You said ‘you’d be damned if the world took me from you’ once—what exactly did you mean by that?”

Hearing such a phrase parroted back to you made your chest tighten. “Oh, I, uh…I didn’t mean it like that,” you insisted quickly, as the Assassin was much older than you, and you knew such a thing would be beyond you both and inappropriate at best. At least…that’s what you could only assume with the gap between you two and how Jacob might feel personally.

“Oh?” Seemed he was interesting and hearing you out further, as Jacob was staring intently at you waiting for an explanation of sorts.

Swallowing harshly, you weren’t sure if he would make fun of your sentiment or not, but it caused you to hesitate. “You were the only one really there for me, Jacob,” you reminded him as your fingers (unwittingly) kept drumming against your teacup in the process. “You saved me from the streets of London and invited me into the Rooks.” Recalling the memories, you looked out the window nearby with a flare of your nostrils as you sighed. “Now, I am on to Assassin training, and while I’ve not been the best at that, you still keep at it with me.”

Jacob scoffed at what you said with a ‘come now’ to follow as he put his empty cup down on the nightstand.

“I mean it,” you insisted, relaxing a bit more in the chair you were sitting upon across from him. “I know I keep stumbling over myself, and I am not the best at some things, but you kept at it regardless. Anybody else would have given up on me, so…I appreciate that…”

You watched as your mentor stared you up and down curiously. For what reason, you couldn’t say yet. His palm across his mouth, he cleared his sinuses before speaking to you. “So you see me as a father?” he asked curiously, his fingers twiddling with the cup once more as if dreading your answer.

Stifling a scoff at the question, you weren’t sure what that had to do with anything as you shrugged. “Yes, I guess, but also not really.”

Jacob let a laugh rupture forth from his lips. “What kind of an answer is that, love?”

You couldn’t help but find this whole conversation almost becoming awkward as you rose up your hands with a playfulness in your tone. “Why does it matter?” Laughing softly all the same, you continued, “I mean, you’re my mentor anyways, right?”

Jacob shrugged his forehead as if to say without words that you had a point. “I suppose, but ‘mentor’ and ‘father’ are two different things, (Y/N).

Again, you shrugged with a smirk to follow. You wanted to be cheeky and say he was old enough to be your father, but you decided against it. “Anyways,” you began, taking to your feet and grabbing up his empty teacup, “you will soon be back on the streets, and you won’t be feeling so ‘locked down’. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

Much to your surprise, your mentor didn’t look that thrilled to the idea. You thought for sure he’d be a smart ass about it all and say how boring it had been with having to live under your roof and by your rules. Yet…he did no such thing. His mind appeared to be wandering.

“Something wrong?” you asked a bit worried, as you figured another head pain might have muted him so.

“Hmm?” Jacob looked up at you, departing from his inner thoughts with a wave of his hand to the concern. “Nah, I am fine, love.” He went back to staring straight ahead at nothing of interest while rubbing his index and thumb finger together. Seemed he was contemplating something, and you weren’t going to interrupt him as you took the cups to the kitchen.

As you worked on cleaning them with a wet dish cloth, the oldest teacup in your possession shattered under the hold you had upon it making you hiss in pain as parts of the cup cut your fingers before falling to rest in the sink. “Dammit…!” you hissed, hearing Jacob move from his spot shortly after the incident.

“What’s going on in there?” he asked curiously, moving to beside you to see the blood staining your fingers. “What happened?” Jacob probed once more as he grabbed another towel not far to dampen it and try to wipe your fingers.

You growled from the pain that assaulted your open wounds as Jacob helped you clean the mess. “It was an old cup,” you sighed with a shake of your head. “I just didn’t expect it to break so soon, I guess…”

“So you grip everything in a choke hold?” he asked lightheartedly, as Jacob couldn’t get over the tight grasp you’d put on your own weapons as of late.

Just as you were about to be snarky to him, Jacob’s cheek touched yours in a way that made your heart stop. Your fingers relaxing under his administrations at that moment, you found yourself lost at him being so close. Inwardly, you could only hope your heart beating wasn’t so loud he’d hear it himself.

“You really need to be a bit more gentle,” he chuckled, moving you away from the kitchen with your bleeding hands wrapped in the dish towel still. Jacob aided you in sitting down on the sofa before instructing you further as he joined you. “Let me see it.”

Shaking the flustered feeling that had overtaken you, you moved your hands to him with a flinch at the air making the cuts sting. From what you could see, you mostly cut your right palm and index finger from one of the rogue pieces of sharp porcelain. Jacob had his gloves off, so his fingers gently touched the areas that were in pain with his thumb moving to the wound on your palm to try and stop the blood that was insistent on escaping to mark your skin.

“Mm,” he hummed in contemplation. “Do you have any gauze?” When you didn’t answer right away, he looked up at you curiously. Perhaps he noticed your stunned, flustered look and it was his turn to be curious. “Something wrong?” The main difference between you both was that you asked out of concern…Jacob looked as though he was smirking about your reaction to something.

Shaking yourself free of the overwhelming race your heart was being put through, you stumbled over your words for a moment. “I-um-w-well…yes…it’s in the upper cabinets in the kitchen for emergencies such as this.” You laughed weakly at your statement, as you were feeling breathless all the same.

Jacob got to his feet and headed to retrieve it before returning back beside you to aid you in bandaging your injury. All during his focused state, you looked to him curiously (when he wasn’t paying attention). He had been acting funny lately…did the head injury do more than you thought it did, or was he genuinely…

 _No. Wipe that thought from your mind_ , you thought to yourself as you did literally shake your head as if to be rid of it. _Besides, he’s much too old for you! He’s your mentor anyways, for God’s sake._

All the same, as Jacob finished what he had meant to do, you couldn’t help but remember using the memories you both had together to encourage yourself to scale Big Ben and overcome your fears. But it wasn’t love that drove you…it was a friendship that was hard to explain…no, it wasn’t love! It wasn’t love!

“Something the matter?” Jacob probed again with a wrinkle of his brow. “You’re being really quiet.”

You cleared your throat and nodded quickly. “I am fine, Jacob. Just….fine…” Your voice trailed off as your head was still swimming with thoughts. “I should probably try to clean up that mess I made in the kitchen.”

“I can deal with that bit, love,” said Jacob, waving off the thought. His hand to your thigh, he departed from the sofa to let you relax for the time being.

However, you couldn’t handle the idea of being alone with your thoughts…your head and heart were starting to swim like mad given the situation at hand. Even if you had feelings for him, you’d be damned if you could act on them. What was a good way to even talk to your mentor about something so personal? Wrinkling your brow at the feelings inside of you, you turned to look in the direction of where Jacob had gone to clean up your mess.

 _Maybe never_ , you thought to yourself. Besides, maybe the feelings would pass in the end anyways?

When night fell upon you, you prepared yourself for bed while Jacob did the same in your bedroom. You had let him have your bed, as sleeping on the sofa was just as comfortable for you. Besides, you wanted him to have the most comfort possible given his head injury.

It was cold as always that winter, and you couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fact that the walls were horrible at keeping the nip of winter at bay. Grabbing up the blanket you kept draped over your sofa, you wrapped yourself in it eagerly before lying down with a grumble to yourself. “Hopefully I will be able to sleep tonight,” you whispered to yourself since Jacob was in the other room.

 

\--

 

While it took awhile to find the welcome embrace of sleep, you did find it all the same. When you started to awaken to the sound of morning, you noticed that the blanket on you felt a bit heavier than last you recall it being. Your eyes slowly adjusting to the dimly lit room, you turned to notice that it wasn’t just the blanket on you but Jacob’s trench coat.

Confusion washed over you as you were uncertain as to how that got there, but honestly, there was only one other person in your house that could have done it…the very person that coat belonged to. Looking around the room, you saw no sign of your mentor. Taking a moment to gaze back and feel the heavy leather attire once more, you brought it to your face to take in the warmth that was still there from the man that usually wore it.

“Good morning,” came Jacob’s voice from behind you. It startled you so much that you dropped his coat by accident on the floorboards. Again, the Assassin couldn’t help but laugh at you being so jumpy around him. “You are rubbish at being able to detect when someone is nearby, (Y/N).”

“Yeah, yeah,” you scoffed playfully, shaking your emotions of your mentor free of you for a second to speak to Jacob as you always did. You turned to see him standing there in at least an undershirt and pants on. “Go ahead and make fun. Just wait till we take back to the field, and I manage to be the one to sneak up on you!”

Jacob leaned over the head of the sofa with a raise of his brow at your playful threat. “Are you just saying that to excite the idea you’ll be better at me at such a thing?”

You gave him a snarky ‘ha, ha’ laugh before showing him the trench coat you had found upon you earlier after you retrieved it from the floor. “You, uh, left this in here,” you said, trying to hand it back to him.

He declined it back with a raise of his hand. “Mm, so I did,” he admitted casually, a rather gentle look upon his aged features. “I came in here to check on you, and you were shaking in your sleep. That’s why I did it.”

“You…came in to check in on me?” you repeated, a bit flattered by that as well as embarrassed as your inner worry was how silly you probably looked sleeping.

“I did it for awhile yet,” Jacob came right out to admit with a shrug of his shoulders. “This house isn’t the best with keeping the cold out, I’ve noticed. I would have left my coat with you a bit before those other times, but I didn’t want to do something you might find unwelcoming.”

He almost sounded nervous to admit such a thing. Even now, he was staring at you—as if to search your face for some sort of answer. Maybe you weren’t over analyzing…? “Jacob, I…”

Jacob straightened up and looked to you as if expecting the words that might come from your mouth. “Yes?” he asked eagerly when you stalled.

You couldn’t. You just couldn’t bring yourself to test that. What if you were wrong? A smile spread across your lips and you gazed down at the coat in your hands. “Thank you,” you said to cover up your confession. “That was sweet of you to do.”

“Oh.” Jacob sounded a bit disappointed in your words as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, you’re welcome, (Y/N).” A smile flickered upon his lips, but you could tell it had a hint of dissatisfaction in it. Did you say something wrong?

“Perhaps I should make breakfast?” you thought aloud, putting the trench coat down and off to the side for now to venture back to the kitchen to do so. Admittedly, you just wanted to escape the weird tension in the air for a moment. Again…he was acting odd. It was like he was expecting you to say or do something, but you didn’t know what it was.

As your mind occupied itself with thoughts of what to prepare for such a thing, as you had little food on you that morning, you were once again startled by the feel of that Assassin sneaking up behind you and grabbing at your shoulder. ‘Grab’ probably wasn’t an appropriate word—more like held. You weren’t used to this sort of touch. It was the gentlest touch you’ve ever experienced from him. It was strange, and it almost forced you to speak your confession then and there, but it would seem you wouldn’t have to.

The tender holding became more than just his palm on your shoulder; his arms moved inwards towards your chest where they crisscrossed as you felt his nose bury within the side of your head—nestling in your hair. Your body rigid, you heard him speak. “I will apologize if this isn’t what you want to hear,” he whispered close to your ear, “but you’ve been the only support here since my sister has been gone.” His embrace tightened, causing your chest to feel a bit restricted, but given the situation, you only paid attention to that detail for a mere moment. “While I know I’ve been a pain in the arse, I greatly appreciate your concern for me.” Again, you felt his arms tense and his warm breath hesitated there near your ear—tantalizing your senses all the more when you felt him breathe. “(Y/N)…? I love you.”

You felt relief in the fact you weren’t holding anything just yet as those words took the breath from you. How were you to even react? How do you even respond to something such as that?

He moved. Jacob’s head lowered in shame as you felt his forehead rest upon your shoulder now. Perhaps he was embarrassed? “I shouldn’t say that to you, I know,” he whispered pathetically, his voice almost caving under emotional pain that was in him. “Will you waste your time with an old bloke such as me? I don’t know…however, all the same, I had to tell you to find out what you’d say, so please… ** _please_** …don’t be quiet.”

He **_was_** embarrassed. You never knew him to beg before, but you could tell in his words and anxious behavior that he was thinking on how much older he was in comparison to you. All of his ambiguous comments before were starting to fall into place and make sense now. He was looking at you so intently before, because he was waiting for you to give him a window of opportunity, and you unwittingly denied him that. Reaching for one of his hands, which were still crisscrossed upon your chest, you pressed your palm to the back of it in an attempts to calm him.

But Jacob reacted quickly to it as if your touch was his salvation. He moved his hand to grab tightly onto your own for support, and you felt him squeeze it so strongly that you could feel his worry. “Jacob, I do…I do care a lot about you too.” Why was it so hard to say ‘love’?

Jacob grasped your hand once more at your words, and you felt him move his forehead slowly from your shoulder. “But not ‘love’?” he questioned nervously, apparently fretful that he had ruined something.

“The…The confession is a shock, Jacob,” you admitted, looking down at your feet since your mentor was standing behind you so. However, you weren’t for long, as it was then Jacob turned you to face him. Looking at him now, nervousness had you in a tight, breathless hold. Again, Jacob looked vulnerable, and it was still a side you weren’t used to. “I-I won’t deny that I have feelings for you—!”

You couldn’t finish. Jacob’s lips had found yours, and while your body tensed at the unexpected action, you found yourself relaxed and calmed shortly after with the taste of his warm breath teasing and filling you so. Fingers slowly uncoiling, you hesitantly moved your arms to embrace him as your mind was still reeling from the emotions running through you. You would have been fine for the kiss to continue, but you found yourself disappointed when Jacob pulled away slowly to look upon you as if to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line. When you didn’t respond, his hand moved to your cheek to try and make you do so, but all you could think to do was grab a hold of it to keep it there against your skin as you found yourself comfortable in his embrace.

“Could you even come to love someone as old as me, (Y/N)? I asked that before, and you’ve not answered,” Jacob reminded you as he curled his fingers slightly against your cheek but only to take comfort in your hold on him.

You scoffed and shook your head at his question. “Your worry is my worry, Jacob,” you reminded him with a tight hold of his hand. “Am I too young for you?”

“Of course not,” Jacob insisted quickly with a shake of his head. “Not in my eyes, anyways. I just don’t want to feel like I am robbing you of something by confessing my feelings.” He paused, gathered up his courage and looked to you with a serious glint in his eyes. “So it all comes down to how do you feel about me?”

“Robbing me?” you reiterated out of confusion. “Of what? It isn’t like I have anybody chasing after me, Jacob. Age is not a factor either…” Gathering your own courage in a slow and steady breath, you reached your hands to his cheeks to try and calm your mentor’s own emotions. “Just give me a moment to adjust, yeah? This all came rather at a shock.”

Jacob nasally sighed his relief. Seemed he was content with that. “And the kiss?”

You looked at him with a cocky smirk. Honestly, you could say ‘it was charming’, but words seemed to hold little gravity in the situation. Actions could speak better than such things, so you moved towards him hesitantly. Fingertips to his lower jaw, you inched closer to him with your eyes lidded from being intoxicated just by the feel of his breath caressing your lips the closer you got to his. Jacob’s nose casually touching your cheek, you found comfort in his kiss once more as your arms moved over his shoulders and you held him in a tight embrace.

 

\--

 

Jacob continued to improve, and when it was time for him to actually take back to the streets, you reluctantly let him go. Yes, you would still be training with him and taking down strongholds with him beside you, but you still couldn’t help but worry for him all the same. He still had those minor headaches now and again, but you made sure he didn’t overdo it whenever they triggered.

The relationship continued between you both, and while you had yet to say ‘I love you’ back, you couldn’t help but feel captivated by the little things Jacob did in order to entice those words from you. He would leave simple letters for you in the morning when it was your ‘off day’ and even would tie flowers of meaning to your cane-sword when you weren’t even paying attention, so you’d notice them right when you were about to take to the field. You had to take them home with you to decipher their meaning, as Jacob was being coy about what they truly stood for.

“Yellow Iris,” you mumbled, when you finally found yourself home and with a book on the language of flowers in your possession. Fingers trailing across the fine print, you found their meaning and whispered it to yourself. “Passion…next one… Japonica …symbol of love.” All you could think to do was smirk with a shake of your head. That was a given. “Jasmine…can mean…sensuality…?” Your words trailed off at the thought as your eyes shifted about in wonder with the flowers starting to slowly come together with their meaning. Admittedly, you had to be honest that you never considered the prospects of sleeping with Jacob. How could you even do that when you had yet to return the words he wanted you to say?

A knock at the door caused you to remove yourself from your thoughts on the matter. Closing the book in your possession and then ushering the flowers off to the side where they would be kept safe for now, you ventured to the front door to open it slowly and exposed Jacob standing there. “Jacob?” you questioned, stepping aside and letting him in. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to in the Thames?”

“I have another Assassin in on that mission,” said Jacob without shame as he shut the door behind him. “My mind and heart insisted I be elsewhere, as I am unable to focus.”

 _Thinking with other things, perhaps?_ You pondered to yourself, as you merely nodded with your mouth twisted to the side as if to be understanding. “So you bring yourself here?” Turning around, you made your way to the sofa and sat there to wait an answer. “Whatever for?”

“To ask if you translated my message?” Jacob probed, taking a seat beside you as he grabbed onto your hands eagerly.

“I did, but…Jacob…I don’t know if I can be ready for that sort of step,” you admitted with a bright blush. He wasn’t foreign to the idea of bedding a woman, but you were new to the idea of bedding a man.

“I am right here with you,” whispered Jacob with a shrug of his shoulders. “Am I still a stranger to you and your love?” He sounded hurt when he asked such a thing, his fingers to your cheek to coax you into looking at him as your gaze had wandered. “Do you not trust me to be gentle with you?”

“I have yet to even return your words of love,” you said, ashamed to admit that. “How can I expose that part of me when I can’t even do that right?”

“Oi, love, you do it in other ways,” Jacob reminded you, his other hand moving to yours where he held it tightly just before planting a kiss upon your lips to distract your mind. “Can you honestly say your playful flirting to me and the kisses you’ve shared with me are mere things of ‘friendship’?”

You were lost with words there. Seemed you had relied on actions a lot more frequently than you assumed you would. “It doesn’t upset you that I’ve not said ‘I love you’ to you yet?” Just asking that made you feel like a child that was inept to do something that usually came so easy to others as you looked upon your mentor, eager for an answer you could be satisfied with.

Jacob’s wrinkled brow creased as he leaned forwards with a curious and worrisome look. “Let me ask this, (Y/N): do you love me?”

Your response was quick. “Of course!”

The Assassin’s hands moved to your cheeks then as he cradled your face in his gentle touch. “Then stop fretting over whether you’ve said the bloody words or not!” Perhaps he could see your face attempted to break into sorrow all the same. Nothing he said could stop the fear swelling in your chest as you worried Jacob craved those words and you had yet to satisfy him with them. “You show your love to me in stronger, more important ways. I couldn’t ask for more in that regard.”

All the same, you managed a brief smile to him as you held onto his wrists to keep his touch close. More than ever, you found yourself craving such a feeling—his touch alone was stimulating to you. “Do you think I am ready for this?” You felt like an apprentice all over again, worried that her mentor would think poorly of her and her inability to perform as intended.

Jacob looked to you seriously, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “The question is do **_you_** feel ready?” He apparently had put on the mentor demeanor once more, as it felt like he was talking about you taking to the field again. “I can say you are ready all I want to, but you know yourself better than I do.”

It was like picking up a cane-sword for the first—you wouldn’t know how you felt about it unless you did it. But just granting someone that honor was more than ‘let’s just do it and get it over with’…that was something you shouldn’t just give to anybody. Was Jacob the one you were willing to trust? Looking into his aged eyes, you didn’t have to question if he loved you or not, for the emotion was very much there when you looked upon him so. After much deliberation, you slowly inhaled before releasing that same breath again and nodded.

“I am ready then,” you said in a whisper.

Jacob moved closer to your lips once more to try and ease your worried mind with a kiss he allowed to linger as his arms brought you closer to his chest. “I will be gentle,” he whispered, his warm breath teasing you when he spoke as he only pulled inches from your lips upon departing from the kiss.

You weren’t sure where the night would go, but honestly, the kiss alone was welcomed and euphoric for you. Moving your hands to his hair, you buried your fingers within his dark tresses and deepened the kiss all the more—like it was some alcoholic drink you couldn’t get enough of as you loved the way it gripped your body and made your mind foggy.

His hand moved to your hair as well, as Jacob encouraged you closer. His nose brushed against your rosy cheek as you felt his tongue touch upon your lower lip in a means to taste you as well as beg for entrance to kiss you further. You complied with a blush across your cheeks as you tasted of him all the more when he rolled his tongue against your own with a satisfied hum at your flavor. It was a type of kiss you were trying to adjust to, as even the first time he tried it, you pulled away out of confusion of something so new (even if welcoming).

Seemed your body had become taut, as it was all the easier for Jacob to move you down towards the cushions of the sofa where he cradled your head with his arms on either side of you. Breaking the saliva that connected your lips, he pulled away for a moment to look at you carefully. Jacob could no doubt see the fear in your eyes, regardless of what good his tender love had done earlier to try and relax your worries. “I’ll take it slow and do as you wish.” His words were heavy, and you could tell he was probably trying to enforce restrain on himself in the way he spoke.

All you could think to do was nod as you felt as though you were cornered all the same. He was practically lying on top of you, and while he was heavy, his weight was oddly welcoming and comforting.

Jacob managed a smile even if you lacked one and nodded over his shoulder curiously. “Did you want to do this here or on your bed? I can’t imagine here is that comfortable, love.”

“Th-The bed,” you stuttered, as you were just thinking of a means to postpone it for a moment longer. Honestly, you still lacked the courage to allow your mentor to see that side of you, and you never really got to see your teacher without his clothes either.

The Master Assassin laughed with a small, cocky smirk to show of his former self. “Relax,” he encouraged, taking you into his arms to aid you to your feet as he shifted off of you. “I promise that it isn’t as scary as all of that.”

Still, you couldn’t help but worry as you allowed Jacob to aid you to your bedroom. “You’re not going to judge me…are you?”

“Judge you? In what way?” he asked, his brow furrowed to show confusion in the idea as he came upon the entryway to your bedroom and nudged the door open with his side to get in completely and allow you comfort there upon the covers of your bed.

“In a-anyway,” you answered, hands balled to your chest nervously still. “I am new to this, and I’ve never had a man look at me before without at least my uniform on.” The idea still made you sick to your stomach as your heart was beating in your chest horribly at that point.

Jacob’s hand moved to your face, as his palm resided there against your cheek, as it always did whenever you over analyzed things. “There is no such thing as to judge the one you love,” he reminded you, his thumb idly moving back and forth upon your skin to calm your fears once more. “The kiss you share will always be one you crave every day, the embrace that envelops you will always chase away your fears, and the intimacy that you have with one another is a special connection you cannot imagine having with anybody else.” He smiled briefly, as if remembering the last relationship he used to be in. “Sometimes that sort of love lives forever, and sometimes it fades, and you have to start all over again.”

Seeing the pain in his eyes was almost more than you could handle when he admitted that. Your hands cradling his face now, and you watched as he responded by moving his lips to one of your palms to kiss you there. “I won’t hurt you, Jacob, and if I ever do, know that I don’t mean to.”

“And I will never judge you,” Jacob reminded you as he pulled his lips from your palm to answer you. “I’d be mad to do such a thing.”

You nodded as you worked your hands into his attire and started to undress him finally as you found your courage in that moment. “I trust you,” you whispered, honesty in your tone as you trailed your hand from his coat to his many belts to try and relieve him of his clothes first. With him, you just wanted to know what you were up against…wanted to know if your courage would remain.

Jacob toyed with the idea of undressing you, but he paused when he noticed how intent you were to have him unclothed first. Upon aiding you in your quest, he soon was hovering over you with nothing there to conceal him. Inwardly, you were impressed how little age seemed to mark him. He had a few scars from battles long past, but nothing that deterred how handsome you found him.

Your eyes remained mostly fixated on his chest, as you didn’t want to be impolite even if he was allowing you to see him in his entirety. However, you would allow your hand to trail from his chest, to his abdomen and then to his thigh where you felt him tense as he grunted from the touch and you even found his own hand there to greet yours as if to halt you from doing what you wanted.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked, his fingers casually stroking yours as your palm remained on his thigh.

“I want to experience everything about you, if you’ll let me…?” you asked, looking into his eyes you were too nervous to look elsewhere.

Jacob’s brow shrugged as he released your hand then. “As long as I can repay the favor,” he chuckled, but soon hitched in breath when your hand found his manhood and you rolled your fingertips from the base to the tip to notice it was already slightly hard. Jacob complied to your groping by moving his legs a bit more for you to have easier access to him.

When your fingers reached the tip, you found it was already a bit wet, and so, you pulled your hand back with confusion upon your face. “Did you already release…?” you asked, confused as to why he would be damp already.

He shook his head, a hint of embarrassment there in his actions as he sucked in his lower lip as if he was in trouble. “When my mind wanders, it is hard to control what the rest of me does, and since I had nowhere to put it…I just leaked is all.”

You couldn’t help but poke a bit of fun at him. “When was that; before you got here?”

“Oi, stop that now,” Jacob smirked, moving in closer to occupy your mouth with his own as he barraged you with a series of gentle kisses. Upon finishing, he looked to you with a cocky expression. “I believe it’s my turn now if you’re done making fun?”

He was just joking, and you were relieved you didn’t offend him as you let him aid you in undressing as well. Honestly, with your clothing off, you should feel cold given the wintery weather, but you were so warmed and nervous, you paid the feeling no mind. If anything, you were numb to it.

With you exposed completely to Jacob, you watched as the elder man took in every ridge of you with his eyes and the trailing of his gentle touch. His breathing almost heavy with the sight of you alone, it seemed as you felt his fingertips trail from between your breast to your stomach and then to your thighs. Jacob only allowed the touch on your thigh to linger a moment, moving it to your knee as he kept a close watch on your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable.

His lips moved to your cheek, where he tried to still your anxious mind, which was racing every time he dared to move his hand closer to your entrance. “It’ll be okay,” he insisted, allowing the flat part of his index and middle fingers to caress your pure and unclaimed womanhood.

All you could think to do was lie there and take in the foreign, yet welcoming, sensation. Your hands were balled up close to your face as you were staring at the ceiling for the most part to wait for him to do what your body was practically demanding he do—enter inside of you.

And it was there he complied. His index finger parted the pink folds of your entrance and pushed upwards as if to search for something, and it made you arch off of the bedcovers with your eyes shut tight at the rush of euphoria that surged through you. “Ooh God..!” you hissed as pain would soon accompany pleasure shortly after.

Jacob was being slow, and his other hand went to your breast to tease one of the mounds with a gentle, yet firm grip. His eyes remained on you still as he wanted to make sure you were enjoying yourself and not too labored by the pain to take relief in his actions. “Do you feel alright?” the Assassin asked, moving to the breast he was occupying with his hand to replace it with his mouth; his warm breath and saliva caressing the sensitive nipple as he toyed with the flesh with his lips and tongue flicking back and forth upon it.

You could hardly even register what he just said let alone comply with an answer. You wanted to tell him it hurt—that there was a bit too much pressure, yet at the same time, you almost reacted by trying to force him to go further even if his finger alone was limited in how deep it could go. Rolling your teeth over your lower lip, you felt the roughness of his beard tease your skin as he continued his actions upon your chest and a swear escaped your lips in the process.

As you thought he would only use the one finger, you were proven wrong as his steady pace in and out was replaced with another—adding another finger to the slow and steady thrusting he was already teasing your body with. Instinctively, you reached down and grabbed his wrist, and it was there you felt him tense and slowly pull backwards as if to relieve you of this pleasure mixed with pain.

“Are you hurting?” Jacob asked, voice labored with concern as he was breathless from the actions all the same.

“A-A bit,” you whimpered, eyes still closed tightly, but you eventually found it within yourself to look up at the man you loved, who was looming over you. “B-But it also felt g-good…”

“The pain will disappear in time,” Jacob reminded you, as he rubbed his index and thumb finger together to look at the dampness upon them. “But, all the same, love…I need to prepare you for something bigger.”

Your chest heaved as you tried to control your breathing. “Is there another way about it?” you asked eagerly, even if the sensation was welcomed.

“Let me see.” Jacob moved then and arranged your legs to where he could get between them. “If I can get you wetter, it won’t be a problem, I think.”

As you were about to ask what he had planned, you felt his thumb take to your clit and it pressed against the swollen flesh to entice you to scream in ecstasy while his tongue slowly scrubbed at your damp entrance as if to clean you. Your heel nudging his upper back, your hand found his hair to encourage him onwards, as the balmy sensation of his breath teasing the pink, sensitive skin of your womanhood was making your thighs tremble.

Jacob complied, and it was there you felt his tongue dig its way inside of you with his hands moving to your sides as he took pleasure in rousing your body further. His nose nudging your clit once in awhile, you felt a tingling sensation rupture through you now and again whenever he breathed harshly through his nostrils, as that air took pleasure in kissing such a sensitive place.

“Fuck…fuck…!” you swore again and again with your face contorted in what would appear to anybody to be pain, but you were overwhelmed with the sexual exhilaration that had its sweet hold upon you. Your hand was quick to find his, even if it was there upon your sides holding you still. Jacob responded once more, and he moved his hand to hold onto yours. It wasn’t a tight hold as you thought it would be, but a gentle one with his thumb rolling over your fingers in an up and downward motion as his mouth remained busy in its journey to make your walls lubricate under his administrations.

When Jacob finished, he wiped his mouth with his palm as he figured now would be a good time more than ever. Slowly removing his hand from yours, he was hovering over you now, and you found yourself at a loss for words as he moved to kiss your forehead, which was beaded with sweat. “This will be a bit odd to you yet, love,” he chuckled breathlessly, moving his arms on either side of you to keep your focus on him. “Just hold onto me, yeah?”

Nervously, you wrapped your arms around him tightly and it was there you felt the pressure really strike you as he pushed the engorged erection inside of you, but only the head so far, it seemed. A scream erupted from your lips, and you didn’t mean for it to sound as though you were in horrible pain, but your body was tight and it almost felt as though it was trying to force him out. You wanted to ask if he’d even fit, but you could hardly find the words as Jacob’s hands moved to your hips to try and make this a bit easier to do as you were almost trying to squirm from him unknowingly.

His pacing was slow as his eyes remained upon you still to try and make sense of the situation since it was obvious you were too lost in the alien feelings to tell him anything. You felt his fingers dig into your hips gently as he started again with a slow and steady thrusting, moving his cheek to yours to shush you and whisper in your ear to encourage you back over to the idea of pleasure. His warm breath tenderly teased your ear and his lips gently tugged upon your earlobe, it was there you forgot about the pain for a few moments and didn’t even take notice that he was going faster.

However, when he struck that barrier of innocents within you, it was there you felt the tenderness again rake through you and disperse pleasure once more. “St-Stop! Stop! That hurts!” you begged, whimpering from the unwelcoming feeling making you feel breathless.

“Don’t focus on it,” Jacob insisted hoarsely, moving you to look upon him. “I have to continue, or each time this will hurt.”

All you could think to do was nod. He knew more about this than you, and it was then you started crying out in pain as Jacob continued onwards—aggressively. You didn’t expect that, and a part of you almost felt betrayed in a way that he would hurt you like this. But, as he continued his eager motions upon you all the more, you began to experience less pain and pleasure blanketed you once more as you felt Jacob’s thighs kissing yours with how deep he had managed to go.

He remained still. His hands moving from your thighs up towards your stomach and then to your chest to tease the mounds he had pleasured earlier while yours and his breathing were the only things to fill the air. Gathering from how he was catching his breath, Jacob was letting you adjust to the idea of him being inside of you, but it only last a moment as he started another slow and steady thrusting motion (to which you could easily hear how wet you had gotten in the process given the slapping and squelching sounds of such an action).

But he wasn’t done. You knew that no matter how much of a virgin you were. Jacob leaned forwards, and it was in that moment he started to kiss you yet again. It was as if it was another attempt to distract you, but the sudden release of his warm, thick seed was enough to make you halt in the kisses he had given you to arch your back once again and cry out in your own climax that was coaxed shortly after his impressive bursts of release. Arms about him once more, you dug your nails into his back as your body shuddered in euphoria at the feel of his rigid erection even jumping slightly inside of you when it performed such a task.

Jacob’s kisses had moved to your exposed neck where his beard continued to caress and tease you all the more when it touched your skin. He was quiet and even still for a moment as he let you adjust to the ecstasy that had overtaken you so no thanks to his handy work. His hands to your hair, he caressed and teased the strands while his fingertips moved to massage your scalp as if to sooth you further as he nasally sighed with content. When you looked to him, his temple wrinkled as he raised his eyebrows to you as if expecting you to say something. With nothing coming from your lips, he spoke then, “Feel better?”

You scoffed at him playfully, weakly whacking his side (that he had not been expecting as he jerked from it and even grunted with a teasing smirk to you). “After it…hurt like hell…yeah…”

“Well, it shouldn’t hurt anymore after that bit, love,” Jacob chuckled, slowly sliding his spent erection from you. With the tightness no longer embracing his length, he hissed with pleasure before reaching to touch his spent organ cautiously. “You bled a bit.”

Trying to look and see what he meant, he showed you his fingertips that were marked with your own blood to show you. You flinched at the idea that he had broken something inside of you to make you bleed like that.

“Even some on the sheets—bloody hell—sorry about that,” he swore, as he obviously didn’t mean to make you bleed that much nor cause harm to your sheets.

“I am sure my sheets will be soiled by more than just blood, Jacob,” you teased, lying down to just try and relax as you didn’t want to be assed to move anywhere, really.

Jacob stifled a laugh as he moved himself on the bed to where he could just rest beside you. His arm coming up and over your body as well as his leg lazily resting over yours, he smiled as he got you to look at him. “That is indeed true, but I thought I would be a gentleman and apologize all the same.”

 

 

The rest of the night was just lazing there without making worry of putting your clothes back on. Just hearing him breathing and feeling his chest even move against your back was comforting and all that you needed when it came to the hours of twilight. His fingers intertwined with yours, you thought for sure he had fallen asleep with how he almost sounded as though he were snoring when it came to the rough vibrations you could hear in his throat.

You had yet to sleep…but that was because your mind was in an endless race with your heart. Biting your lower lip, you turned your head slightly even if Jacob was behind you sleeping. It was impossible to move with his body lazing partially on top of yours. Seemed he felt you move all the same, as his thigh eventually gave relief to yours as he moved it for you. “Jacob?” you whispered, not wanting to wake him if he was indeed fast asleep.

“Mm?” he mumbled, his fingers showing signs of life against yours slightly to let you know he was there and listening.

“I…I love you,” you managed to say, even if the words felt really awkward given nothing had happened to entice them.

You heard him stifle a brief laugh in the darkened room as his hand merely showed a bit more playfulness and energy to it as he started to caress your fingers with his. “Is that so?” Jacob’s voice was still heavy with exhaustion, but in his actions it was obvious he was happy that you finally spoke up on the matter. “Well, I love you too, (Y/N).”


	3. A Father to Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation to The Fall/ The Assassin’s Anxious Heart where the reader ends up pregnant and unsure of how to tell Jacob. This one is going to be a bit lengthy to substitute for me taking a break for a month!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

Things continued as you expected they would after you finally found the courage to, not only say ‘I love you’ to your mentor, but after also sleeping with him. It was still information that was hard to digest. Sometime ago, you were being trained by Jacob Frye and found him to be insufferable and very strict, and now you were finding it difficult to be without him. While Jacob still kept a teacher mentality when on the field, there were still moments of playfulness where you could see the feeling was mutual. 

It was getting horribly cold at night lately about London as you took to the streets with him once more to aid him on a mission he was trying to take on alone in the past few weeks. It was not far from the Kenway Mansion in the park that Jacob asked you to meet him, and so you did so without hesitation. 

“Rook deaths?” you questioned when Jacob filled you in on the mission upon arriving just under the gazebo. “You know that is bound to happen, Jacob, when Blighters and Templars are still very much around.” While the thought was gruesome and horrifying, as you were once in the Rook ranks, it didn’t feel like much for concern beyond to wish the dead well in the afterlife, feeling as though they fought hard to the bitter end. 

Jacob’s wrinkled brow creased all the more at your words, arms crossed over his chest. “Indeed, but they are nonsensical, one might say.” 

You looked to your lover curiously in the shadow of the moonlight. “What do you mean?” 

He reclined back against the railing of the gazebo and released a nasally sigh you could only see upon the cold air of London. “The stab wounds were in places to hint at an ambush as of late, and the gunshot wounds are at such bloody close range, you’d think these fallen Rooks knew their attacker…as though they trusted them.” 

“Blighters are known to fight unfair, Jacob,” you reminded him, casually stroking an old pain in your upper right shoulder where one had punched you there so hard and then took the liberty to ram your shoulder into the nearby building to the point it nearly dislocated years ago. 

Jacob shook his head at your attempts to ease his worry. “Mm,” he began with a hum, shifting his crossed arms slightly in his relaxed pose, “maybe, (Y/N), but not so many times in a row. It’s becoming blatant, really. Once or twice, I would consider the thought that we had a brilliant strategist on our hands, but now…” Jacob’s words derailed as he heard the nearby clopping of hooves against the wet streets only to notice it was a carriage passing by to ease his concern. All the same, he kept his guard up and his eyes remained fixed beyond the gazebo. “…but now, I wonder if we aren’t being betrayed.” 

“A traitor in our ranks?” you asked, voice in disbelief. Honestly, you didn’t want to believe it…to assume a traitor was disguising themselves as a Rook was…it was just beyond you. Could it be possible some of the Rooks were heading back to your new Templar threat? Not all of them were previously Blighters, so some could easily be swayed to join elsewhere. 

“I don’t want to believe it either,” sighed Jacob, his fingers tapping nervously on his upper arms. “While I don’t know all the lads by name, I know a fair few that are still left standing, and to think any of them could be working against us makes me bloody ill.” Jacob shook his head, lowering it shortly after and closed his eyes in sadness at the thought. 

There it was again—that same depressive frown that always brought a heaviness on your heart. Jacob was trying so hard to keep London together with his sister gone, and whenever things fell into disarray, he felt as though he was failing her and his heritage. You couldn’t help but reach a hand to his cheek to try and steady his fretting mind. Upon doing so, you were able to catch his sorrowful gaze. “Jacob, we will find out what’s going on, I swear to you.” 

Just as you were about to pull your fingers back, he stopped you by insisting you keep your touch where it was. “I appreciate the support, love,” he whispered to you, his words even seen in the crystalline vapor that escaped his mouth. Turning his lips to your touch, he kissed your fingertips before releasing you reluctantly. With a clearing of his throat, he got back down to business. “Right,” Jacob began, motioning beyond the gazebo, “if it is indeed a Rook from the inside gone mad, the most I can do is watch certain locations and pray I get lucky. While I am a bit rubbish at deductive reasoning, I did find that during the middle of the week, one of the attacks happens just on this street.” 

“Alright, so…what now?” you asked, watching as Jacob slowly sat down within the gazebo with a shrug. 

“We wait,” he answered, reclining back. “It will be awhile from now till it might occur.” 

“That sounds ‘jolly’,” you joked, trying to put on a fake accent for him. 

Jacob lightly laughed at your lame attempt to be British. “Can be if we pass the time in the proper way, (Y/N).” 

“And how would you like that we do so?” you asked, finding that bit of cockiness in Jacob’s tone again and that could only lead to trouble. You found yourself reclining back against the opposite side of the gazebo to Jacob. 

Jacob smirked, leaning forwards on his apart knees from where he sat. “You could bonk me, if you like.” 

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “I do that nearly everyday, Jacob, when you’re being a hardhead.” 

An honest laugh erupted from the Assassin—one that actually shook him to the point you wondered what you said that was so funny. “Ah…I shouldn’t correct you on that word’s use just to see how bloomin’ far you’ll go into digging yourself a hole with it, but do you know what that means here in London?” 

It was a slang word? You gave him a bewildered look, though your cheeks were burning with embarrassment as you shook your head. “What does it mean?” 

“It means ‘to have sex with’,” Jacob corrected, trying to stifle his laughter, but you apparently tickled him with your honest answer to his comment. 

Jerking your head back, your face flushed all the more. Still, you tried to correct yourself. “Well, where I came from, it means to ‘bonk one on the head’—as in to beat sense into.” 

Jacob placed his hand over his mouth briefly to try and prevent himself from being witty, but that didn’t stop him in the long run as he quickly let the joke fly. “You’ll be beating something, but not the head you’re thinking of, (Y/N).” 

“Come off it!” you hissed from where you sat, trying not to laugh at his humorous remark. “Do you really think this would be a good place for such a thing?” Calming your voice all the more, you looked about curiously to make sure nobody was truly nearby. “I mean…someone could walk in on us.” 

“The park is clear at this time of night, (Y/N),” Jacob answered, showing you he was being honest when he said he wanted to just have sex for a moment. “Besides, I told you that the attack would possibly happen later.” 

You came a bit closer to him, fidgeting at the thought. “What if it happens earlier, Jacob? We could literally be caught with our pants **_down_** —!” Jacob’s hand had randomly prompted its way between your legs and urged you towards him; however, you were hardly ready and lost your footing and fell upon his shoulder. Gathering your thoughts from the sudden collapse upon your mentor, you tried to look at him, but you were hung over him like a sack of potatoes. “Wh-What’s the big idea—!” 

Your words were cut off when you felt Jacob’s index and middle finger caress against your clothed entrance to excite the idea. He was vigorous about it and the longer he continued the further excitable your body became. “Mm?” Jacob hummed sarcastically. “What’s this then? You seem awfully wet for someone who doesn’t want to do it, (Y/N).” 

A hot blush spread across your cheeks as you struggled against Jacob’s touch. Ever since the first moment he took you, a part of you almost started to become addicted to the thought of always being in bed with him, but honestly, to say it didn’t feel mutual would be you covering up the Assassin’s advances at awkward moments. 

Your mind went blank—a part of you wanted to remind him now was probably not the best moment for this sort of thing, but before you could even form the thought, Jacob had already maneuvered about your belt and pants to lessen the barrier between his touch and your entrance. Again, you could feel his fingers probing at your underwear, which was indeed wet to the touch no thanks to his touch. “Jacob…!” you gasped, fingers curling about his clothing as you tried to adjust to the thought. 

“Are you sure you don’t want it, (Y/N)?” Jacob asked, his voice holding that same cockiness it usually had whenever he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. Should you even desire to do so, Jacob took a moment to roll his finger against your concealed clit before moving his fingers against your underwear and caressing the real thing. 

A labored moan escaped your lips as you felt your body weaken upon his actions. You couldn’t deny him much longer, but you would still try to get a rise out of him. “D-Daddy knows ‘best’,” you taunted in a means to try and make him feel his age, but as soon as those words touched his ears, you felt him stop and Jacob was quick to move you upon the floor of the gazebo where he was now hovering over you with a curious expression. 

His face was neutral, so you weren’t sure if you aroused or offended him. His right hand began to move, and soon it was upon your throat as if to pretend to choke you. While the touch was rough, you knew he was merely toying with your sexual high as his thumb began to caress the skin. “What was that you said?” Jacob asked, feigning ignorance to what you had alleged earlier. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words struggled to surface for some reason until you felt your master move his other hand against your entrance, pushing his index finger inside of you. Arching your back into the sensation, you tensed as you stifled a moan, which slowly turned into a small whine. “I-I said… ‘daddy knows best’…!” 

“Really?” Jacob questioned, removing his grip upon your throat and slowly removing his finger from your soiled entrance to work on at least freeing his erection. With it exposed to your sights, you watched as Jacob moved back upon you to where his lips were inches from your ear; you could even feel his breathing caressing your earlobe. “Then perhaps I should give my ‘little girl’ a taste of what she’s been craving lately.” 

Hardly a chance to react, you found your entrance being intruded upon by Jacob’s erection as his hands found yours as if to pin you down and prevent you from working against him. Jacob was stronger than you, so even trying to react against his strength was downright impossible. You tried to quiet your cries of excitement as you rolled your hips forward to try and meet his length before straddling him with your legs and pushing your heels against his lower back to make him go deeper. 

In his eager acts of proclaiming his love, you could tell you only slightly offended him to the point he was going to prove to you that he was far beyond an ‘old man’, but it didn’t stop you from playfully taunting. “Then fuck me harder… _daddy_ …!” 

Jacob’s face creased into a grin as his fingers curled upon your palms and he held you tightly as his thrusting at that moment became further aggressive. You could hear and feel his thighs slapping against yours and the harsh collision of them caused your body to slightly curl and your breasts to flounce upon each action. “How is this then, (Y/N)?” he panted, his breath apparent all the more on the cold air, which was now numb to the touch given how warm you were becoming.

You could hardly respond. Your climax was building so eagerly that it was that sensation alone you could only focus on. “I…!” you flinched as your walls threatened to cave on his probing cock, and upon Jacob just pushing all the way inside of you and remaining still, you couldn’t ignore the thought much longer. “I…I am gonna cum…!” 

“Then cum,” Jacob demanded through his clenched teeth, his hold upon you tightening. “Cum hard on my cock…!” 

You hardly needed much coaxing as the feel of him flexing his engorged erection within you was enough to drive you mad. Your body going rigid, it was there you felt the warm sensation wash over you as you responded and marked the intruding length with your release. Gladly, you would have screamed his name, but you had to remember you were out in public and the last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to your position. Jacob’s name became a small whimper of a whine as your body shook from your climax. 

Feeling the orgasm, Jacob responded in kind. The hot release spraying forth into your body was like a second wave of euphoria that crippled you. It was obvious Jacob had been eager to do something lately, as the release was impressive—marking you six times. While the Assassin struggled to maintain the energy to stay upon his hands and knees, he moved closer to your lips and kissed you again and again in a sloppy manner as Jacob was so obviously drunk on ecstasy. 

It didn’t bother you. Hands moving to either side of his face, you moved to meet him as you hungrily drank in the sweet taste of his saliva and warmth of his breath. “I love you,” you whispered between hurried kisses, finding those words becoming easier to say as time passed. 

Jacob smirked as he caressed your cheek with the side of his finger. “And I love you, (Y/N),” he spoke with hesitation. 

In the end, you counted your blessings that nothing happened while you were busy riding your mentor. After Jacob removed himself from you and situated his clothing as you did, you both were left waiting…apparently a lot longer than Jacob had wanted as you could tell he was growing impatient. 

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled to himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a nasally sigh. “This is taking a bit longer than I anticipated.” 

“Perhaps we are out of luck, Jacob?” you wondered, moving closer to him to place a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. “Maybe we should—.” 

“Quiet,” he ordered quickly, grabbing onto you and ushering you to get down and out of sight. 

You hadn’t really heard anything, but just as you were about to question Jacob’s sanity in the matter, it was there you heard the distant banter of Rooks that were approaching the scene. 

The conversation was nothing special at first—just chit-chat about the day and what pub the men planned on hitting up for the evening. But then it transpired into a conversation about a bloodbath over in the City of London and how a couple of Rooks were found dead. Hearing such a thing, you couldn’t help but look over at Jacob curious as to what he thought about this. He didn’t comply to your gaze, as he was too busy eavesdropping on the conversation. His face was stern, and you saw his frown deepen. 

“Shouldn’t we—.” 

Jacob raised his hand quickly to your words to quiet you, his eyes remaining fixed on the direction of the voices. 

“Not a single one left standing,” said one of the men. “Bloody shame.” 

“And no Blighter in sight?” asked another. 

The fellow Rook hesitated in answering, but it was perhaps to light a cigar he had on his person as you heard him breathe out long and hard. “None, no sign of even a Templar dog, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you what caused the massacre.” 

Jacob’s face hardened again, and it was there he took to his feet finally and left the gazebo. “Jacob—!” you exclaimed quietly, trying to reach for him, but it was too late, as he was already on his way to the three Rooks. 

“What’s all this then about a massacre in the City of London?” Jacob demanded to know, causing the one Rook to nearly swallow the smoke he was inhaling from the cigar he was indeed smoking. 

The man with the bowler hat and Rook colors coughed and hacked, grabbing at his chest when Jacob suddenly appeared before him and his comrades. “Christ, boss—you scared the shite out of me!” he chastised as you hurried up behind Jacob. 

“Charming,” Jacob mumbled, narrowing his eyes all the more. “Now, tell me what you know!” 

You could tell Jacob was getting frustrated with this, and it caused you to instinctively grab onto his arm to try and calm his anger, which was known to flare from time to time. He tensed from your touch, and seemed compelled to ignore you all the same as he was desperate for answers. 

“Don’t know much, Mr. Frye,” the Rook insisted—the Rook you could now recognize as a man who mostly patrolled Whitechapel known as William Neals. He was a fouled mouth one and was known for enjoying too much liquor now and again, but he was one hell of a sharpshooter with his revolver and kept you from many bad scrapes with Blighters back in the day. “Was told by little Jenny Wicker about it all not but a day ago.” 

Jenny Wicker—another Rook you could easily remember. She kept tabs of an old Blighter control space in the City of London. 

Jacob crossed his arms upon his chest. “What did she tell you?” When William didn’t respond as Jacob wanted, he barked at him: “Speak!” 

William could hear the aggression in Jacob’s voice and it made the man raise his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright—take it easy, boss,” he insisted, removing the cigar from the resting corner of his mouth. “She said there was about five of them—give or take—dead in an alleyway nowhere near our gang headquarters about London town. Looked like it was mostly a shootout of some sort as she found empty shell casings all about and many holes in the bodies.” 

“How did she come upon this?” you felt compelled to ask, wondering how Jenny was able to find the bodies so out of sight. 

“I don’t rightly know, (Y/N),” William answered, taking another quick smoke break from the conversation. “You’d have to ask her that bit, love.” 

Jacob didn’t stay to talk about much else. He was quick to turn on his heels and hurry towards the nearby building to use his gauntlet to grapple the roof and take off without another word. You were quick to follow him though calling out his name eagerly in the process to slow him down. 

“Jacob!” you called, hurrying after him as, for an older man, he was still quite fast. When you finally were able to grab a hold of him, you turned the Assassin to look at you. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

“To find Jenny Wicker,” Jacob said simply, thinking that would be the end of that conversation, but you were eager to keep him stationed. 

“So late at night?” you questioned, raising a brow at his behavior. “Jacob, you should rest before you take off deep into the City of London on a wild goose chase!” 

“There is no such thing as ‘rest’ for Assassins, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you, taking his arm back from your hold. “Do you plan on coming with me or not?” 

If you were to be honest with yourself, you were indeed tired, but the thought of Jacob going to the City of London alone worried you. Hesitantly, you nodded with a nasally sigh. “I’ll go.” 

Jacob could probably see the exhaustion in your eyes, as he lowered his head slightly and gazed upon you as if to study your expression all the more. “Are you sure?” 

Even if the smile upon your face was heavy with a bit of weariness, you nodded. “As long as I am with you, I am sure my energy will easily come back to me.” Walking forwards, you released your own rope launcher device to make a zipline to the other building not far away and took off ahead of him. 

 

 

It was a long run all over the City of London, and no Jenny was found near some of the Rook hangout as you both assumed she’d be. Upon your arrival, you found great reprieve in the thought of just sitting down for a moment. It was feeling unlike you…to get so easily exhausted. Even Jacob couldn’t help but kneel down beside you in concern. 

“Are you alright, (Y/N)?” he asked, his hand upon your shoulder in an attempts to show his support. 

You nodded, though your heavy breathing was a horrible indication that you were quite tired. “I guess I am just a lot more tired than I thought I would be.” Turning to Jacob, you gave a lighthearted smile at the thought. 

Jacob hummed in thought, moving his gloved hand to his mouth as if to think on what to do with you before pulling it away to rub his index and thumb finger together in idle thought. “Why don’t you wait here?” he insisted as you both were atop one of the many buildings in London. “I don’t think you have the energy to take on anything, and I don’t want to risk you being injured or worse.” 

“I can handle myself just fine, Jacob,” you quickly scolded, as you didn’t want to be left out of the action. Honestly, you were worried for him as much as he was you. With these horrible murders going on, you couldn’t help but fret for his life. 

“You’re a bloomin’ wreck, love,” Jacob reminded you, hissing annoyance through his teeth as he grabbed your upper arm to try and get some form of sense into you. “Do you honestly think you’ll have it in you to fight an attacker head on if they come at you?” 

“Of course,” you answered swiftly and reassurance at the thought. 

“Don’t be daft!” the Master Assassin scolded. “You’re staying here, (Y/N), and that’s an order.” 

A sarcastic laugh erupted from your mouth. “Hah! So you want to turn back into my mentor, do you?” 

Jacob looked at you long and hard before his expression faltered into confusion. “Since when have I never been your mentor?” When he asked such a thing, you found yourself looking away as if ashamed by your comment. “Do you think when I offered my heart to you that it changed our relationship completely, (Y/N)?” Upon you not responding, Jacob slowly rose to his feet once more. “In the end, I still rank above you, and I still am very much in charge of you, and you are staying here—that is final.” 

A sigh of defeat escaped you, and it was there you found your back leaning against a nearby chimney. “Fine…” 

“I won’t be long,” Jacob reminded you as he headed to the edge of the rooftop. “I think I know where to find her, and I should be back before the sun rises.” And with that said, the Assassin took his leave of the area by free running down the side of the building. 

With him gone from earshot, you rolled your eyes angrily. “Whatever you say, _dad_ ,” you grumbled in a condescending manner. 

To be truthful in the matter, you were becoming angrier with yourself than Jacob’s decision to bench you. Normally, you were a lot more spry than this. In the past few weeks, you had been good about staying on your toes and always moving and being alert; especially, with Jacob around and staying at your house when he ‘fancied’ to. Every now and again, the man would find his feet at odd hours and take off to search for leads. If you found yourself awake, you too would follow him. 

“Please don’t tell me I am getting lazy,” you mumbled to yourself, praying that wouldn’t be the issue. 

As you tried to find a way to pass the time, your mind kept wandering back to Jacob. Yes, he was a skilled Assassin and could handle himself, but you worried for him still. He was still recovering from head trauma, and if anybody struck him there too harshly, you worried it could set back a few months of recovery. The thought started to get to you and just as you were about to find your feet to go and search for him, the sound of rapid gunfire caught your attention. 

“What’s this now?” you wondered, hurrying over to the side of the roof to try and hone in on the revolver being fired. 

It wasn’t happening far away judging by how loud the sound was, and if it was indeed the same person who was behind the Rook slaughters, well, you could at least try and eavesdrop in on the situation. Disregarding what Jacob had asked of you, you took to free running yourself and hurried to the streets of London with your hood up and your head partially down to try and avoid detection in the darkness. 

Using the alleyways to duck in and out of your surroundings, you came upon the reason for the noise. It was a fight—a gang war like any other—but it wasn’t against Blighters and Rooks…it was just as Jacob feared as Rooks were releasing open fire on other Rooks, which appeared unprepared for the assault. 

“Not just one though,” you whispered to yourself in disbelief. “It’s…more than one…! 

There were four of them standing on the opposite side of the bloody brawl and six on the other. The rogue Rooks were outnumbered, and you figured it was a perfect time than any to strike as you took out your cane-sword and hurried towards the fight. Rushing across the street to where the battle was taking place, you quickly unsheathed your sword and did away with one before trying to take down another, painting the ground crimson as you struck without hesitation. 

“The bloody—!” hissed one of the men as he turned around to see you there attacking from behind. You were quick enough and did away with his backup, but just as you were about to have it out with him, the man was swift and aimed for your left leg and shot you down. 

Hissing in pain, you found yourself kneeling down to the point he was able to bring his own knee to your chin and knock you backward to the cold, wet cobblestone road. Your lower jaw hurt like hell, and you could taste blood in your mouth from the impact of the Rook’s attack. _No, no…!_ you thought to yourself. _Get up…Get up!_

The Rook didn’t know you and you didn’t know the man personally yourself. All you could tell was he cared little about where your life was to go as he aimed his gun right for your head. He wasn’t even in the mood to be witty like most foes usually are when going for the kill. 

But, you found yourself given more time as one of the brutish Rooks came up from behind to wrestle him away from you and made sure the bullet didn’t strike you when the revolver went off. The two wrestled about for a time, giving you the energy you needed to get back to your feet (best you could), and you hurried towards the aggressive Rook to end him with your hidden blade going for his chest. 

It was becoming easier…seeing a man or woman’s life slip out from under your care. The sounds, however, were the worst part, and it was why you never cared to go for the neck most times as it made them worse. But the nameless Rook struggled for a second to remain alive, and it was there you grabbed him by the collar to shake him for information. “Why…Why would you do this!” 

The Rook sneered as he soon lay upon the ground with his hand over his stabbed chest, blood spilling over his fingers in the process. “He is coming…” 

“Who is?” you demanded to know, ignoring the pain in your wounded leg best you could to try and get answers, so your injury wouldn’t be for nothing. 

“He is coming…and there is nothing…you…or Jacob can do…!” The Rook gave a blood stained grin in triumph, lowering his head to the ground. It seemed then and there that the cryptic message would be all you’d get as the man was soon lying there motionless. 

However, just as you felt the need to look at the fellow Rooks, still alive and still on your side, you heard the sound of a blade lazily scratch stone, and just looking down in time—in a feeble attempt to slice at you—the dying man was only able to cut across your upper body just below your breast before finally being at peace. 

You panicked, hand upon the injury quickly, but you felt relief all he did was swipe and not so deeply he could have really harmed you. All the same, you were bleeding badly now and had to do something or you could endure blood loss. 

“(Y/N)!” one of the female Rooks exclaimed, hurrying beside you to try and aid you in covering your injuries. You didn’t recognize her, but the men and women of the Rooks knew the Assassins by name. “Just sit, and let me handle this!” she insisted, moving her attention first to your leg. 

“What happened here? What was going on?” you demanded to know, trying to ignore the weariness that wanted to take you now. 

“Daft wanker just opened fire on us, (Y/N)!” the brutish man responded eagerly. “Said he was following orders from some chap named Jack, and if we wanted to live, we’d join him!” 

Jack? The name didn’t seem familiar to you. There were many Jacks in London, so who was this one? Was he a new Templar or a new Blighter? “Did you—.” you paused, hissing from the tight feel of your leg being bandaged but still did your best to work through it. “—did you get more information than that?” 

“Just some mad fellow we’ve never heard of before,” another man responded in confusion. 

“Do you know this Jack’s affiliation?” you probed further, cringing from the woman doing her best to wrap your upper body next. “Is he a Blighter or a Templar?” 

The same male Rook shook his head. “Jack didn’t sound like no Templar or Blighter, mum…sounded more like…an Assassin type, he did.” 

Your eyes widened and your heart sank. “An Assassin…?” Jacob wasn’t going to like this news. Of course, you’d have to first face him with your injuries and explain you went against orders…so that conversation alone was going to be delightful. 

“(Y/N)!” 

Hearing Jacob’s voice just then made you flinch, and hesitantly, you turned around to see the man running towards you with a worried frown. It was always so bizarre how he was able to track you with no problems. He did say something about an eagle vision or something, but you never knew much about that as it was something you lacked. 

Jacob knelt quickly beside you as he looked at the madness that had erupted in his absence. “What the bloody hell happened!” he exclaimed, but before you could answer, he grabbed at your shoulders angrily to try and get you to look at him. “I thought I told you to stay put! **_That was an order!_** ” he roared, showing how frustrated he was. 

Again, you flinched. Whenever Jacob was angry, it was never a pretty sight. “Jacob, you don’t understand! I found—!” But you could hardly find it within you to finish your words as the pain in your chest struck even after the bandages were applied. Hands curled upon Jacob’s chest, you trembled from the following pain in your leg. 

The Master Assassin moved quickly and cradled you into his arms as he took to his feet. “What happened?” you heard him ask as his words reverberated in his chest where your ear rested. 

“She took a bullet to the leg,” explained the female Rook who was patching you up earlier. “Not sure if it went clean through, so you might have to dig it out, Mr. Frye. I just had to wrap it to stop the bleeding. (Y/N) got lucky the swipe across her front is only that, but it still bleeds something awful.” 

“A bloody doctor will be miles from here,” Jacob swore angrily. “Do you have anything at the nearby Rook stronghold in terms of medicine and bandages?” 

“Yes,” insisted one of the male Rooks as you heard him shuffle away from the scene with the others. “Quickly, Mr. Frye! Don’t want another damn attack surfacing anytime soon.” 

You had closed your eyes shortly after the exchanges, causing Jacob to shake you gently in his embrace as he hurried onwards. “Stay awake, (Y/N)—don’t go to sleep on me!” 

You moaned in misery at having to comply. Ever since you arrived you just wanted to close your eyes and sleep and now the blood loss was just making it worse. However, you would soon find comfort in one of the nearby strongholds as Jacob and the other Rooks cleared the bed for you. 

Everyone on the streets knew the best way to tend to wounds should you find yourself in a struggle such as that and needed to patch up. Most of the strongholds contained medicine, gauze and clean towels for bigger incidents such as this as frequenting a doctor could be expensive for one, but also inconvenient. As everyone scurried to get what they needed, Jacob began to work on unwrapping your leg. You flinched in the process of the injury being exposed to air once more. 

As Jacob moved your boot off of your foot and pushed away the blooded fabric over your leg to get a better look, his hazel eyes came upon yours once more with a sort of warning look. “(Y/N), I am going to need to move your leg for a second. It’s going to hurt like hell—just be warned.” 

Having him warn you was hardly enough for you to prepare for the pain that ruptured through you. “For fuck’s sake…!” you swore, fingers curling upon the covers as he was moving it almost straight up to get a better look at the underside of it. 

“Maybe this will teach you to actually listen to me next time,” he grumbled, still angered over your inability to heed his warnings earlier. 

“A-Are you really going to put on the damn father role right now, Jacob?” you griped in return, finding the moving of your leg to be unbearable. “Just find what you need and put my leg back down! **_Christ!_** ” 

Jacob shot you an un-amused look before groping for the nearby lamp to move closer to the injury on the underside to see if the bullet did indeed pass. “Didn’t go through,” he muttered to himself and the female Rook nearby. Jacob passed the lamp off to the woman standing beside him. “Don’t have any beer here, do you?” 

“No, sir,” she answered. “Lads downed it all not that long ago, of course.” 

“Dammit,” he swore angrily, his hands roaming over his body for an idea of what to do when he came upon his necktie, which he quickly untied and moved towards your mouth. “You’re going to need to bite down on this, love.” When you gave him a funny look, he explained further. “I am going to have to cut into your leg to get the bullet out without the aid of a pint, and that’s going to be unpleasant for you. I don’t need you grinding your teeth together to the point you injure yourself.” 

Now you were starting to wish you had listened to Jacob as you hesitantly opened your mouth to let him tie the necktie upon your mouth like some gag. After he had done so, you watched as he removed a throwing knife from his trench coat and began to check in the dull lighting if it was any good before moving it over the candle’s flame. 

“Hold her down,” Jacob instructed to the woman nearby, which apparently didn’t need to be told twice about that situation as she quickly got a firm hold on your upper shoulders. 

It didn’t take long for the pain to kick in as Jacob started to dig into your injury to fish out the bullet that didn’t pass. Instantly, you screamed and arched your back and almost tried to kick your leg in retaliation, but the woman holding you down was ready and Jacob expected the reaction as well—causing him to quickly stabilize your wounded leg by pressing his gloved hand upon your upper thigh. As you kept moving erratically, he eventually swapped positions and used his upper bodyweight to hold your leg still as he continued the task at hand. 

The pain was unbearable. It even brought you to the point of tears as it felt never ending, and you were tired…just wanting the nightmare to end. While Jacob had handled his own injuries time and again to avoid doctor visits, he was still sluggish with certain areas and this was one of them…removing a damn bullet from the body took a steady hand and patients, and while he was well versed at both in his older age, he still didn’t know the body as well as any doctor, and it took some doing to make sure he didn’t injury anything in the process. 

“Got it,” Jacob said with relief, a small ‘ ** _clink_** ’ of a sound hitting the nearby table afterwards as he motioned to the men. “Get me a needle and thread as well as any medicine you have here.” 

The rest of the bandaging was just as painful as having the bullet removed, but you were glad to be done with Jacob digging around in your leg. When it was all over with, Jacob removed his gloves, which were now blooded from tending to your injury, and then wiggled his finger against his necktie that was still very much in your mouth to allow you to speak. Taking a relieved breath, you closed your eyes tightly with a harsh swallow. “Please…please tell me you’re not going to do more…” you said breathlessly in regards to your torso wound. 

“Depends on how bad it is, love,” said Jacob as he moved your shirt up and out of his way next. “Be reminded this could have been avoided if—.” 

“ ** _Will you just shut up!_** ” you exclaimed angrily as the pain was becoming more than you could bear, though your outburst only made your chest hurt all the more and you reclined back. “I was fucking worried about you, Jacob…!” 

“Be quiet,” Jacob ordered softly, wrinkling his brow in disapproval at your actions towards him. “The more you thrash about the worse it will be. I need you calm and quiet.” 

The upper body wound wasn’t nearly as awful as the leg injury, and Jacob was able to find it within himself to merely wash it and sew the wound closed before reapplying dressing to it. The entire experience left you drained, and once you were given water to substitute for at least how thirsty you were feeling, you found yourself falling asleep for a time.

 

\--

 

Rain tapping vigorously upon the hideout following by thunder was enough to wake you from your peaceful sleep sometime later, and you found the world to still be quite dark beyond the window not far from where you saw Jacob standing. He wasn’t watching you but merely held his focus beyond the old glass. “Jacob…?” you called wearily, moving your hand to your forehead to find you were sweating a bit. 

Hearing you speak, Jacob’s head snapped in your direction and he quickly hurried over towards the bed you were upon. His hand to your forehead and then moving the back of it gently to your cheek to check your temperature he released a worry filled sigh. “You’re still burning up, (Y/N),” he whispered in the dull lamplight, moving to a bowl of water nearby to try and lower the heat rising up within you with a dampened cloth. 

“How long was I out?” you asked wearily, feeling your stomach growling angrily at you for having not eaten anything in sometime yet. 

“Just a day or so, (Y/N),” he answered simply, still trying to keep your temperature down. “Are you hungry? I have food about.” 

Weakly, you laughed with a lidded look to your mentor and lover. “I feel like shit and as though I’ve not eaten in weeks.” 

“Is that a ‘yes’?” Jacob asked with a stifled laugh of his own. 

All you could think to do was nod as Jacob departed from you with the folded up, damp cloth remaining on your forehead. Upon his return from downstairs, he sat beside you with a plate full of, what was becoming the norm for you in terms of food: cheese, mushrooms, rice, bread and potatoes. Honestly, you wouldn’t complain, as anything would be great right about now. 

“Think you can sit upright for me?” he asked, as he moved the old pillow against the head post of the bed to allow it to be more comfortable for you. Jacob reached for the wet cloth upon your head and removed it so it wouldn’t become a problem, placing it back into the bowel of cold water nearby. 

“My stomach is killing me…” you groaned, wishing you could move to wrap your arms around it, but the work done on the wound in your upper body was making that hard. 

“You didn’t eat for at least two days, so that’s understandable,” said Jacob, allowing you to eat the food he had retrieved from downstairs where most of the Rooks usually kept their food supplies. 

As you eagerly ate the meal in front of you, you eventually were prompted to slow down by Jacob as he placed his hand upon your back and gave you a funny look—as though you had gone weeks without food. It caused you to blush brightly, but you dismissed it all quickly when you thought back on the Rook attack that prompted your injuries. “I found out what’s going on with the Rooks, Jacob.” 

Jacob gave a melancholy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I know, love,” he practically whispered, as if dreading the answer. “Jenny Wicker was a bloody dead end for me, but the lads here explained everything.” 

“So…do you know who this ‘Jack’ is?” 

Again, he recoiled and looked down at his lap where he was fiddling with a throwing knife by tapping the flat of the blade against his palm. “He was a lad I trained in the ways of the Creed as I have you.” The Assassin almost hesitated in continuing as he wiped his mouth idly with his palm, a nasally sigh to follow after. “I rescued him from the asylum he was sent to after he was traumatized by the brutal death of his mum, and I felt he would make a great Assassin, but…” 

Jacob’s voice derailed and, yet again, his brow grew heavy with regret. “Jacob,” you whispered, moving your hand to his cheek gently, caressing his beard with your fingertips. 

He sighed once more, grabbing onto your wrist for support as his old gaze found you. “I need to contact the other Assassins and warn them what is happening. Seems Jack is intent to head to Whitechapel given the reports I received from Mary Ann recently though he is spreading his madness through the Rooks as we’ve seen. Maybe I can stop what hell I’ve accidentally unleashed onto London and the Brotherhood.” 

“We should leave quickly then,” you insisted, fondling with the bread in your fingers. 

“How?” he asked, furrowing his brow in worry as he looked you over. “You are sick, (Y/N). I can’t leave you here while I go chasing after Jack, and you know you can’t very well get around on that leg of yours—least not yet.” 

Seeing the worry within him, you could only assume Jacob knew more of this matter than you, and you reluctantly spoke. “Then go on without me.” 

“No,” said your mentor firmly, leaning back in the chair. “I already let that man’s actions tear apart one relationship I had, and I won’t let him do it again.” 

You gave him a confused look. Jacob rarely spoke of his past, but given the conversation you both had during your first erotic night together, he mentioned something vaguely in terms of ‘falling out of love’ and expressed worry of it happening again. “You loved someone else before, didn’t you…?” 

“And had a son, yes,” whispered Jacob as he swallowed harshly at the memories. “Emmett mostly lived with his mum, though I had moments to teach him how to be an Assassin as he wanted to learn. He has been on a mission with our brothers in India, so that is why you’ve not seen him yet.” Jacob reclined back to try and shake the sorrow from himself as the memories were obviously painful for him. “He’s spending time with his aunt, Evie, in the process.” 

“And your wife…?” you asked nervously, hating to admit you were a bit jealous of the thought the woman had the pleasures of being his first. 

“Ex-wife,” he corrected, rubbing his eyes. “She divorced me when I was in my early thirties and moved to Westminster to my knowledge. I still write to her when given the chance, but I think she is still cross with me for what happened.” 

Damn your curiosity, but you couldn’t help but ask. “What did happen?” 

Jacob shrugged with his hands opening and then re-clasping between his legs. “Jack began to become unstable, and in those moments, I was busy cleaning up after him and having back and forth problems with the Council. I spent so much time with it all, I even missed my own son’s birth.” He sighed, showing he regretted a lot of things in it all. “I got increasingly agitated…began to drink…everything just fell to shit after that.” 

No wonder Jacob was really down on himself. He lost, not only his sister, but his former wife and chances at a really happy life because of a choice he made. Even if it hurt like hell to move about, you inched closer towards him and ushered him to your chest at least to try and comfort him. “I promised you I wouldn’t leave you, and I meant that, Jacob Frye.” 

He responded and buried his face into your chest while holding onto you for a supportive hug. “If I am ever a huge pain in the arse or a right shit at times, it is because I worry I might just lose you, (Y/N),” he whispered, his voice so heavy in pain you thought for sure he’d start crying, and the sight or even sound of that could make you crumble. 

You shushed him eagerly, kissing him upon his head as his overprotective attitude felt a bit more excusable lately. To ask him to go back to Whitechapel and handle the affairs with Jack was beyond you now. Really, all you could think to do was quiet his worries that evening.

 

\--

 

Jacob would eventually send for a doctor to come and check on your wounds to make sure they were healing properly while he made a quick run back to Whitechapel one day. He made sure enough Rooks were on hand to watch over you—Rooks he trusted not to turn rogue. 

“For a lad who is rubbish in the medical field, he did a fine job, really,” said the doctor as he checked your leg injury and made sure you could move it just fine. 

You flinched all the same, as you had been resting in that same old bed for awhile now, and the thought of moving your wounded leg was beyond you at times. It had started to feel a bit stiff. “Some men and women on the streets taught him a few things, and he went from there.” 

The doctor had been thorough in his checkup, and, for whatever reason, began digging into personal affairs in regards to the older man who came to fetch him. “So I am to guess this Jacob Frye means something to you?” he questioned, moving your shirt to look at the next injury. 

You blushed and looked away quickly not sure what to say. “Well, umm…yes. I’ve known him for a few years or so now as I work under him.” 

“Really?” the doctor continued to probe, causing him to fix his glasses as his eyes were wandering to your breasts as if intrigued by something. One of his hands moving upon one, you flinched (assuming there was going to be pain given how close the wound was to your breasts.) “Does he know you’re pregnant and shouldn’t be brawling at all?” 

“Wha…What…?” you asked, laughing slightly at the thought as you didn’t feel pregnant lately. “Why do you say that? I can’t be pregnant—I mean, don’t women usually throw up if they’re pregnant?” 

“Most do, but some don’t,” he corrected you and he motioned to your breasts once more. “Sensitive to the touch, aren’t they?” 

You hesitantly nodded, not wanting to believe you were pregnant as this wouldn’t be a good time to tell Jacob. 

“Also, your clothes a bit tight around your stomach area,” the doctor went onward to explain. “I know women’s clothing isn’t exactly loose fitting, but even given the boyish clothing you were wearing, it was almost hard for me to undress you.” 

“Guess when you wear corsets you don’t tend to notice,” you mumbled to yourself in disbelief, still a bit in shock given the news. 

“Be thankful I caught this, (Y/N),” the doctor insisted, trying to undress your other injury upon your upper torso so that he could have a look. “If I didn’t, you could have taken a hit to the stomach and miscarried.” 

Should you be? You were now unsure what to really tell Jacob after his whole story about his past family. He was a 40-year-old man, soon to be 41 that year…would he want to have a family again? You weren’t sure what to feel. All different kinds of emotions were flooding you now, and you found yourself thankful he was gone to give you time to think. 

 

 

You waited for Jacob to return to the Rook stronghold in the City of London. He would return soon, at least, that’s what one of his letter insisted as he had been gone for a few days. You could only hope Jack hadn’t caused so much havoc Jacob had to stay in Whitechapel without being able to fetch you. 

But then you heard his voice just beyond the building’s walls and you felt your body relax before being conflicted with mixed emotions…relief, anxiety, and excitement all seemed to fight for control over you, and so you merely waited for the Assassin to make his appearance before you. 

Jacob opened the door to the room and hurried towards you with a curious look in his old eyes. “How are you feeling? Did the doctor say anything about the injuries?” 

You were at a loss for words, so all you did was shake your head slowly with a brief smile upon your face. 

Obviously, Jacob could sense something was wrong as his brow creased in concern. “Something the matter, (Y/N)?” 

“N-No,” you lied with a weak smile. “Everything is fine. I was just worried about you.” Here, you moved to hug him tightly with a kiss to his cheek. Honestly, you were worried…but now you had this new bit of news to try and tell Jacob about with everything on top of it. “How are things in Whitechapel?” 

Jacob embraced you tightly, remaining there for a moment as he sighed through his nostrils at your question. “Bleedin’ lousy,” he whispered close to your ear. “I have gotten some of our Assassins there to try and stop Jack, but with the Rooks uprising too and siding with him…I might have to go back there soon.” 

“What about me?” you asked eagerly, not wanting him to know the news yet in worry it might chance his decision all the more. 

Pulling back from the embrace, Jacob looked up at you eagerly. “You need to heal, (Y/N). I cannot stress that enough, or Jack will tear you to pieces.” His voice grew heavy from the thought as his hold on you was stern. 

“So I must be without you for some time yet?” you asked pitifully, shaking your head at the thought. “Jacob, please…that’s not fair…!” The very idea of being without Jacob for awhile was frightening; especially, if Jack was able to weasel his way into the Rooks and make them rise up against Jacob. 

“Don’t do this to me, **_please_** , (Y/N),” Jacob begged in return, haunted by your words. “I need you to be strong for me and wish me well in this…I don’t need to lose you as well because of him!” 

Sniffling back your sadness, you motioned at the room about you. “Why not just stay here for a bit? Let the other Assassins deal with it…” It was a selfish thing to say, but you didn’t want to lose what time you had with Jacob in case everything could indeed go to hell and the Assassins lose their standing in London to some rogue. 

Jacob lowered his head and sighed heavily. “Alright,” he whispered reluctantly. “I’ll write to a few other Assassins we have and see if they cannot aid against Jack till I get out there.” Standing upright, he rubbed his face free of any exhaustion that might be there before looking back down at you again. “But, if things get bad, you have to let me go, (Y/N)—deal?” 

Eagerly, you nodded at the conditions. Maybe Jack wouldn’t be so bad Jacob would need to lift a finger…you could honestly only hope.

 

\--

 

Jacob stayed on top of messages written to him by his fellow Assassins in Whitechapel while keeping an eye on the Rooks in the City of London to make sure no more turned on him. Late one evening you found him at the nearby writing desk in the corner diagonal from the bed reading a letter that had been sent really late. He was shrouded mostly in dark had it not been for the nearby lamp, which he was trying to block the brightness of with his body it seemed given the positioning of it. 

“Jacob?” you whispered curiously, grogginess clinging to your tone as you spoke. 

Turning his head quickly in the direction of your voice, the Assassin folded up the letter and put it away. “Did I wake you, love?” Jacob asked in a quiet whisper, taking the lamp and moving it to the nightstand not far from the bed. “Forgive me; I didn’t mean to.” 

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes free of sleep and weariness. “What is going on? Is everything alright?” 

“It was a letter from Mary,” he whispered, letting the light sit for the time being, allowing you to see his face in the darkness. “She says things are going well so far, but I might need to go back soon.” 

A small smile etched upon your lips as you moved your hand nearest to Jacob to caress his cheek before he moved his lips to your fingertips to kiss you there. “How long do you think you have?” you asked, still holding the secret you were pregnant best you could as no moment felt like a good one to really tell him. 

“Depends,” he answered with a somber sigh, trying to maneuver your hand to his hair by just moving his head against it. You found yourself wearily chuckling at the feel of it since he was acting like a dog that just wanted to be pet and had no other way to say it, so you found your fingers digging gently into his hair, which was already a bit messy from sleep prior. Jacob rested his chin upon your stomach, making you tense for a second but relaxing shortly after as he moaned his content at having his scalp teased. “Crime is rising in Whitechapel, and if it gets any worse than it already is, according to Mary Ann, I need to put a stop to it.” 

You wanted to say it then and there for some reason, but you stopped yourself the moment you felt him teasing your outer thigh with his fingertips. Your injuries had healed, and you both were merely spending time away from the madness at this point. Perhaps Jacob did so without much hesitation given how his last relationship ended, though you could tell he was still very much anxious over what was going on in Whitechapel. 

_If I tell him, he might not allow me to go back with him…and I’ll be stuck wondering if he is even alive_ , you thought to yourself with a furrowed brow. _If I don’t…he’s going to be so furious with me if he ever finds out…_ Just as you thought to open your mouth to spare the news, you felt his wandering hand trail to your inner thigh and you scoffed playfully at his advances while toying with his hair. “You know, if you want something, Jacob, there’s no harm in asking.” 

In the dim lighting you could see his eyes had shifted over towards you and a small laugh tickled his throat at your words. “Not too tired, are you?” 

“I can easily find the energy to ride you, big daddy,” you playfully teased, moving your hand to his cheek to gently tease him there with your knuckles rubbing his beard. 

Jacob laughed quietly. “You flatter me,” he lightly joked, moving his chin from your stomach only to have his lips finding yours to excite a passionate kiss. You felt his fingers caressing your head in return as he slowly trailed his tongue against your lower lip to have a taste of you before probing the wet muscle further past your lips to tease yours in return. Falling prey to the intoxicating taste of him, you felt the Master Assassin pull back slowly only to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Get up, so that you can ride me.” 

Moving from the bed as he instructed you swapped places with him to where Jacob could lie on his back upon the covers, giving you free reign to do as you pleased. Since the man rarely slept in anything other than his underwear, it was easy for you to fish for what you wanted. You weren’t sure whether you should be surprised or not, but to feel that he was already practically erect made you stifle your laugh all the same. “Were you sitting on this for awhile, Jacob?” you playfully teased, making Jacob slap your backside as revenge at your comment. 

“I am being polite and not bonking you like crazy given the aggression I have right now inside of me, (Y/N),” Jacob warned, his voice strained as though he had considered the thought a second ago. “Now—,” here, Jacob squeezed the spot he had taken care in slapping, as he had yet to remove his hand from where he impacted you. “—fuck your ‘daddy’, or I will be the one fucking you, love.” 

You hardly needed to be told twice, and after removing your clothes, you positioned yourself over the obvious erection of the fellow Assassin. Groping the shaft, you guided it inside of you with a hiss of pleasure, your other hand quickly moving to his chest to anchor yourself.

You heard Jacob moan in pleasure as you did so and his chest merely flexed under the exertion of your touch. When he felt you struggling to push him all the way in, he arched his hips and moved his hands to your hips to aid you. “Thadda girl,” he breathed heavily, as you responded with a soft cry at his entire length being pushed within you. 

While you hardly had the mindset to respond to his size, Jacob did, and so he began to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace at first though you could feel his eagerness to control himself as his grip on your hips was almost painful given his nails digging into your skin. Moving your hands to his chest, it was there you began to find your strength and started to urge your entrance to kiss upon every inch of him in an eager manner. Swearing in excitement, you moved forward finally to where you were maneuvered your arms underneath his neck and cradled him close as if to hug him tightly. 

His heavy breathing was near to your ear as his own arms moved to embrace you tightly, his thighs slapped harshly against your own. Jacob’s thrusting got so quick and harsh that you even lost your breath and voice for a moment—your once meek cries going silent as you weren’t even sure how to respond to the quick pacing. “J-Jacob…!” you finally managed, feeling your body about to climax quickly under his administrations. 

Jacob turned to your cheek and kissed you there eagerly. “I wasn’t joking when I said I was **_eager_** ,” he hissed in delight as his pacing started to slow to the point he was merely doing deep, steadier thrusts until picking up the pace once more. “Do you like that, (Y/N)? Do you like when I ravage you like this?” 

His warm breath was teasing your ear and his erotic words were making your climax burn within you all the more as you felt your body tremble in warning. “Y-Yes…f-fuck, yes…!” you whined, eyes rolling into the back of your head for a moment at the sensation. 

In one swift eager motion, Jacob urged you all the way down on his erection and, with his grasp remaining firm on your hips, he made sure you felt every bit of his release in the process as he came without warning—only a grunt could be heard briefly during his orgasm. 

The hot sensation made you jerk your head back and you pressed your chest against his as your own climax was coaxed shortly after. Squeezing his intruding length for all it was worth, you could feel both of your release dribbling from your entrance to make a mess of the covers beneath you both. “God damn,” you moaned, sounding a bit exhausted in the process as you looked from behind, where you remained connected to him back to Jacob himself. “Guess it’s safe to say you should get frustrated more often,” you teased, slowly removing him from your body with a throaty whine at the spent manhood leaving your tight entrance. 

Jacob grunted in return from the feel of the tightness leaving him, and he chuckled as you moved between his legs to kiss and tease his length with your lips. “Mm, you’re expecting a bit much from me, love, if you think I’ll be able to get hard again so soon.” 

You chuckled, still kissing his cock as if to praise it. “You act like you’re some old man, Jacob,” you lightly jabbed, stroking his belly, which he flexed against your touch. 

“I am,” he laughed quietly, moving his arms behind his head to try and relax. 

Kissing upon the soiled length and then moving to his stomach, you felt his muscles react to your lips as they contracted and then relaxed shortly after. Making your way up to his chest, you laid your head to rest there—finding content in just listening to his heart beat. “You are not that old,” you said softly between the both of you, thinking back on the baby, which was growing inside of you now. Biting your lower lip, you inhaled steadily to try and find the courage to tell him. “Jacob…?” 

Jacob moved his hand to your head to stroke you there tenderly. “Yes?” 

“The doctor told me something…interesting,” you began slowly, wanting to try and feel how this would play out. 

The fingers of the Assassin stilled at your choice of words. “Oh?” 

“I am apparently pregnant,” you finally said, closing your eyes tightly incase Jacob might explode at the news being a bit late. 

His hand moved, and Jacob tried to get you to look at him. You almost resisted at first until you finally found the courage to gaze upon him in the gentle candlelight. “Did he say the baby was alright after the fight you encountered?” Jacob sounded more concerned than upset at the news, and it brought you some relief.

 You nodded slowly. “I wasn’t kicked in the stomach, Jacob. He said I should be thankful he caught it early or something bad could have happened.” When the Assassin didn’t speak right away, you found the lack of lighting really hard to read him and how he might have felt about this bit of news. “Are you…are you mad…?” 

Jacob’s chest shook with a small spasm of laughter. “Why would I be mad, (Y/N)? I am shocked, yes, but I am not mad.” 

“I guess I just worry that…you never really did tell me if you wanted to start a family again, and you are forty,” you reminded him somberly. “You…being the age….that you are…” You were struggling to say the right thing let alone find the right words for it. 

“Bloody hell, just say ‘old’, will you?” Jacob lightly teased showing he wasn’t offended. 

“Come on, this is serious,” you insisted, wishing he would take it as such. “Jacob, when this child is ten, you’ll be in your fifties!” 

“And when the child is twenty, I’ll be in my sixties,” he reminded you sternly to show he was being serious. “Yes, I can do simple addition. The bottom line of this, (Y/N), is do **_you_** want to have this child? I will be with you every bleedin’ step of the way—you know this.” 

“What about Jack?” you asked, worry still very much crippling you in it all. 

You heard Jacob sigh, and he moved his hands to your shoulders to steady you and get you to look at him. “I will be sending you out of here—to Crawley if I must—.” 

“Jacob,” you tried to interrupt, not liking where this was going, but he continued regardless. 

“—but I am going to make sure you and the baby are safe, and that is final, (Y/N)!” Jacob concluded angrily, talking over you quickly to make sure you didn’t get another word in till he was done. 

“What about what I want!” you exclaimed tearfully, trying to resist the urge to strangle him or something when it came to his behavior. He was so damn hardheaded.

You could tell Jacob felt challenged, and the only reason he couldn’t get up to show it was because you were resting on him. “What you want is to be selfish and stay beside me, and I cannot allow that when there is a mentally ill bloke on the loose in London! As a pregnant Assassin you are _removed_ from the battlefield as of this moment; even the bloody Council will tell you that much.” 

Frowning at his choice of words, you sat upright beside him on the bed to allow him room to do as he pleased. “I am going with you back to Whitechapel, Jacob…and that is final.”


	4. The Hunt for Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of The Fall Series where the Reader goes on a search for Jacob after his confrontation with Jack the Ripper, encountering Evie and Emmett in the process. Thank you for your patients on this series as I was taking a much needed reader insert break. Had to remind myself of my research to get some of the deaths from Jack and such right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

The ride back to Whitechapel was a silent one. Jacob angrily sat on one side of the carriage, intentionally keeping quiet though you could practically feel his aggression towards you and your decision to come back with him. You wanted to speak to him, but you too couldn’t help but be annoyed with his attitude as of late. Yes, he was worried about losing you, but if he kept pushing it he could easily cause the one thing he was dreading.

“I can’t believe you’re being so bloody stubborn,” he hissed angrily, keeping his eyes occupied to the goings on outside of the carriage window nearest to him. 

Turning your head to his heated words he whispered, you raised your brow and scoffed. “You are the walking embodiment of that word, Jacob,” you criticized, witnessing as Jacob was quick to look to you then with his eyes giving you a scolding glance. “Do you honestly think it would be fair for me to sit in Crawley and wait for news of you while you face this madman?” 

“You would be **_safe_** ,” he hissed through his clenched teeth, his idle movement of rubbing his thumb and index finger together turning into that of a fist to direct his anger somewhere. “That is what is most important to me—you and the child you now carry!” 

His voice was rising, but you refused to let this hardheaded Assassin have his way. “I would have been miserable!” you retaliated finally, leaning closer to him with your hand on your chest in frustration. “Do you not have faith that I will be okay with you here in Whitechapel!” Your voice was starting to crack under the pressures of sorrow. The pregnancy certainly wasn’t helping your emotions as of late either. 

Jacob’s fist smacked into the woodwork of the carriage, making you jump back slightly at the reaction. “You are still in training, (Y/N)!” he shouted angrily, turning to look down at you. “I trained Jack since he was but a lad, and you…you have **_NO_** chance of surviving against him if he gets a hold of you…!” 

Your mouth opened to counter but you quickly shut it as you found yourself lacking any sort of response. 

“And that child inside of you is defenseless,” he continued, his voice trembling at the thought and his old eyes grew heavy in regret. “Even if you survive any attack Jack should make, if he strikes you in the gut…” Having that thought in his mind was enough to make Jacob’s words trail off into obscurity as he lowered his head in shame at the very idea. 

The thought that he was trying to make you feel selfish over your decision was enough to make your emotions flare into a mixture of sadness and anger, but you did your best to hide the sorrow and only let the hostility show through. You found it a challenge, however, as your voice sounded pressured by the emotion of misery when you next spoke. “Are you done, Jacob?” 

Jacob could hear the heaviness in your tone and was quick to eye you with a raise of his brow. 

Doing your best to grant him a passive aggressive smile, you still fought with yourself only to feel your eyes starting to ache as tears were soon rimming them and blurring your vision. “Are you done trying to make me seem like a heartless and careless person?” Having to say that aloud, the tears soon cascaded down your cheeks freely and your distress was unleashed. 

Straightening up, Jacob sighed at your words and actions. “(Y/N)…” he began as if to try and rephrase what he had said earlier. “I just don’t want you in this battle! Can’t you just…” Jacob paused, wiping his palm against his mouth to try and think of a good way to put it. “…can’t you just do as I say and head to Crawley? I will be less worried and more focused on what I have to do with you and the child safe!” 

For some reason the word just shout from your mouth as the mere thought of only relying on letters from Jacob to keep your mind and heart at peace was terrifying. “ ** _NO!_** ” 

“Dammit, (Y/N)!” Jacob swore, his anger flaring again as he turned to face you with his entire body. His hands soon found their way to your shoulders as he held you in a firm manner. “Just once would you bleedin’ listen to me, you stubborn arse!” 

The touch was unwelcomed, and you found yourself pushing your way out of it before directing your words to the driver of the stagecoach. “Stop the carriage!” you demanded, voice cracking from the upset of Jacob’s words and actions. 

Your words were loud enough to be heard the first time and the carriage came to a quick halt—both you and Jacob jostled slightly from the sudden stop. Just as Jacob was about to ask you what you had in mind, you pulled yourself from his rough touch and made a quick escape out your side of the cart to the streets of Whitechapel. 

“(Y/N)?” Jacob called, but you ignored the Assassin as you stormed out and away from him. “(Y/N)!” he yelled more aggressively before tearing from the carriage you were both in to hurry after you. 

“Leave me the hell alone, Jacob Frye!” you demanded through your tears, hearing his footsteps behind you getting louder and louder till you felt his hand grab your arm to stop you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” You weren’t in the mood for him after his words he spared you earlier. Admittedly, you were so cross with him you found your hand going right for his face to slap him, but Jacob was quick and able to grab your wrist before your palm made contact with his cheek. 

“Stop this, (Y/N), and get back in the carriage!” he ordered as you struggled against him. When you refused and continued to fight him, Jacob’s touch upon your wrists tightened painfully and caused you to be still as his words released into vapor upon the cold August air. “Do you want to cause such a scene you die that much quicker?” 

You went still, unsure of what he was getting at. 

Jacob’s nostrils flared, the air turning into the same crystalline like mist from the cold air around you both. “Jack has overtaken the Rooks here,” he whispered to you. “They will kill in his name if they see you as they know our connection to one another! Even Mary and the others had to go into hiding as no place is safe here anymore!” 

Your eyes turned from Jacob and looked about the semi-lifeless streets of Whitechapel. It was almost haunting to see so little life out and about as of late given the terror that Jack had apparently unleashed. Jacob’s home wouldn’t be ideal as almost everyone knew where he lived, and it was there you looked to him with determination. “Then we go to my home for the evening,” you whispered to him in case anybody was listening. “Nobody really knows where I live—Jack included—you and I will be safe there.” 

Seemed Jacob couldn’t really argue that logic as he didn’t counter as quickly as you assumed he would. You thought for sure he’d tear it apart, but he mulled it over before sighing at the fact you were right. “This still isn’t over, (Y/N),” Jacob warned, his hold on you still as unyielding as before. “We have much to discuss in this matter when we get back to your living quarters.” 

It was then he finally released you and took care in the thought you would follow as he made his way back to the carriage not far away. Rolling your eyes, you embraced yourself and worked on doing away with the tears that were still stinging your sight given the chill in the air. “Yes, **_dad_** ,” you mumbled, dragging your feet with every step you took like a child that had done wrong and was delaying her punishment. 

 

 

You never thought you would be so relieved to be back home once more. Yes, there was tension very much in the air, and it was nearly suffocating, but it was nice to at least be where you were familiar with everything and without worry of a Rook coming to stab you in the chest as you slept. With you both shrouded in privacy, you assumed this was where Jacob would start to have his say on the matter all the more since the only place you could escape was your bedroom. 

Jacob motioned to the nearby sofa eagerly. “Sit down,” he instructed. 

His tone was just as forward as before, and you assumed he was going to lecture you further as you did what he asked reluctantly. Taking a seat upon the cushions, Jacob moved his trench coat out of his way a bit as he knelt down in front of you to move your boot and clothes out of his way to get a better look at the leg injury, which was still healing but not nearly as bad as it was weeks ago. “How does it feel?” he asked, moving his palm underneath your calf to see if it was still tender there. 

You flinched slightly from him intentionally aggravating the wound but answered honestly. “It is fine. It is still a bit sore though.” 

“Mm,” he began with a hum, “it should heal in time then. Just need to make sure you stay off of it enough. Don’t need to cause chronic pain to it to the point you’re bed stricken.” 

His words were gibberish in a sense as you narrowed your eyes in confusion and shook your head. “What do you mean ‘heal in time’?” 

Jacob gently poked at your stomach, making you react by flexing the muscles there. “Do you honestly think you’re going to be this weight forever now? The extra weight on your body could present a problem on a bad leg if you let it get much worse than it is, love.” He rested his arms on his thighs, looking up at you as if he spoke from experience on that thought. “Don’t want to get bedridden for many weeks when pregnant—you’ll be weak from lack of movement and rubbish at the mere thought of pushing the child out. That’s what got my mum in the end,” he reluctantly admitted, pushing to his feet finally. 

You dared not push the topic of his mother. He didn’t get a chance to know her, but he always held such an upset about the subject regardless. “Is this your way of saying I am off the field again for ‘medical reasons’?” you asked, trying not to sound bitter in the fact, but it was difficult as you wanted to help against Jack. 

“Do I need to write the Council and tell them that you’re pregnant, so that they have my bloody blessing to remove you from the field?” Jacob asked, towering over you now in an intimidating way. “You can get me to keep you here in this dangerous part of town, love, but you are not—I repeat— ** _NOT_** going to take to the field with me!” 

You reclined back and sighed. “And what will you tell the Council about the baby? Will you tell them who the father is? You know as well as I do that a male Assassin can stick his dick into any woman he chooses, but if a female Assassin gets pregnant they want to know we didn’t just put ourselves out of commission for stupid reasons!” The rules of the Council were sexist in your opinion, but you also understood a male Assassin had little to lose in terms of his work if a woman got pregnant on his behalf. 

The color in Jacob’s cheeks rose in anger at your words. “I didn’t make the rules,” he reminded you, as he didn’t quite care for the tone in your voice, it seemed. “Also, would you have us both get in trouble if I volunteered the information it was me? Do you not realize the mess that would cause us both!” he exclaimed angrily. 

Again, you looked away from Jacob as he was intent on getting on your case about your desires to remain near him. 

“The Council would deem me unfit to be a Master Assassin and take on apprentices—not like Jack going rogue wasn’t enough for them to bring my logic into question; however, to have sex with a woman much younger than me who is my pupil…they will strip me of my title and take the child you bear under their care, and you will never see it again!” When you refused to look at him, his hand found your chin and directed your eyes to his. “We make a deal on this, (Y/N),” Jacob insisted, his brow wrinkling in concern. “You will stay here and off the field while I look into stopping Jack with Mary Ann and the others.” He removed his touch from your face and pointed at you intently. “You break that deal and I am sending you out of here to Crawley.” 

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that the Council still needs to know who this baby’s father is, Jacob,” you reminded him, worried how that would transpire. “If you falsify documents about my dealings on the field, they will still demote you or worse.” 

“One bloody problem at a time, **_please_** , (Y/N),” Jacob interjected quickly, raising his hands to either side of his face before you found his touch upon your shoulders. “First, make a deal with me that you will stay put while I deal with Jack.” 

Sighing heavily to fight off your emotions, you nodded hesitantly. “Deal.” 

Jacob nodded in return as he showed relief in his old eyes that you weren’t going to fight him on this one. “Right, then,” he whispered, trying to supportively rub your shoulder before moving his hand to your cheek. “You stay here, (Y/N),” Jacob instructed as he turned from you. “I need to go meet with the other Assassins and find out what’s been going on in my absence.” 

When Jacob took his leave of the building and went out to the streets of Whitechapel, you sighed to yourself. “Be careful…” 

 

\--

 

The fight against Jack began to get gruesome over the passing time. Mary Ann died at the hands of Jack, who was now being dubbed Jack the Ripper by the public no thanks to his letters being published and that being the signed name. Other female Assassins Jacob sent after him were slowly meeting their end against the man and ending up in the newspapers sold on the street corners by young paper boys. 

Rook attacks against Jacob were also becoming frequent on his way back to where you lived. It became such a problem that he would sometimes sleep at his home instead just as a means to keep you safe. However, because of all these losses and having to talk to the Council about the problem and why you couldn’t join in the fight, Jacob was starting to become more on edge. 

You wanted to help him…you wanted to go to the field regardless of your pregnancy, but the lack of energy was making it difficult to consider as of late. As Jacob was reading one of the newspapers one afternoon, you heard him swear angrily and toss it off to the side before finding comfort with his head in his hands. 

“Jacob?” you questioned, making your way over to where he was sitting at the writing desk. 

“Another of Jack’s letters published in the bloody news,” Jacob sighed, moving his palms to his eyes in an almost defeated slouch. “This has become such a damn mess…” 

You worried for him. He was trying so hard to keep everything together, and it was all just falling apart underneath him—everything he had strived so hard to maintain. Hand to his hair, you gently caressed him there to try and settle his mind and body. 

“I sent for Evie,” he told you aloud, his head slightly bowed in the candlelight as he rubbed his index and thumb fingers together in idle thought. “I am hoping she gets my letter soon and decides to abide by my wishes. I am also going to talk to Mr. Weaversbrook tonight about this damn madness in regards to Jack’s letters…” 

“Let me come with you, Jacob,” you instantly insisted, squeezing his shoulder supportively. 

“We made a deal, remember?” Jacob reminded you, turning his head slightly to catch you from the corner of his eye. 

“Am I just supposed to stay here all damn day and night and not do anything?” you asked, removing your hand from him as he was, once again, being impossible. 

“Until I can at least move the Rooks back to my standing, then yes!” Jacob responded, turning in his chair to look at you better. “(Y/N), you are a walking target right now, and I won’t let Jack order your death.” 

“I am not that far along, and I can still handle myself just fine!” you insisted on your behalf, wanting to aid Jacob just once and show that you were there for him. 

“Am I going to have to send you to Crawley?” Jacob growled in warning, his eyes narrowing at the thought. 

“Let me just prove myself that I—!” 

“ **(Y/N)! ENOUGH!** ” 

His voice was so loud and assertive that it caused you to jerk your head back as if to avoid their assault upon your ears. You bared your teeth at his verbal attack and got close to his face to show you weren’t one to be messed with. “I am coming with you…you can’t keep going like this alone, Jacob!” 

“I swear, I am about to give you a right bollocking…!” he threatened through his teeth. “You won with the whole mess of coming here, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you with a raise of his brow as his index finger jabbed at the desk’s wooden top, “but you’ll have to step over my dead body before you think you can walk out this door!” 

“Why do you do this? Why do you act like such a damn father figure all the time!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms to your side in defeat. 

“It’s called being worried to damn near death of the woman I love, but if you want me to be your father—so be it!” Jacob gestured angrily towards your bedroom door. “Go to your room, (Y/N); right now!” 

You scoffed at his behavior and refused to move under his instructions. 

“ **(Y/N)!** ” he shouted this time, making you jump slightly from the sudden snap from your lover. When he caught your eyes, he furrowed his brow to you again ever so slightly and tilted his head. “Don’t make me repeat myself, or I swear to God, you are not going to like what I do with you.” 

“I just wanted to always be there for you, Jacob,” you reminded him, your voice weakened under the sorrow that was creeping upon your body. “Do you not know how hard it is to watch the man you love fall apart right underneath you and you’re not able to help because you’re pregnant?” The tears started to flow freely this time as you slowly shook your head in disbelief at his behavior. “Just…just **_fuck you_** then! I’ll go to Crawley, if that’s what you want, you ungrateful ass, but don’t think that you’ll be welcomed back into my arms when that happens!” 

Jacob didn’t move. He remained in his chair and intentionally avoided your gaze after your words. You could tell what you said hurt him, but everything he had said and done previously had done equal damage. 

Honestly, it was enough to make you throw your hands down in disgust and storm off to your bedroom as he demanded earlier. You needed to get away from him, and if he wanted to go talk to this Weaversbrook without you, then you would allow it only on the basis that you were too frustrated to deal with him anymore. 

Slamming the door harshly behind yourself, you lowered your head and cried heavily at the damning situation you were put in. You didn’t want to leave him, but with how he was acting, you couldn’t stand to be around him anymore either. So hard you fought to keep everything together, and it seemed Jacob was intent on pulling it apart. Back against the door, you slid down slowly and rested your forehead against your knees to do your best to hide your sorrow. “I hope this is what you wanted, Jacob…I really hope it is…” you whispered, words nearly choking you upon their escape from your lips. 

 

 

You were tired (emotionally and physically) so after your crying bout, you found calming rest upon your bed. As you continued to find salvation in the peace and quiet, you felt someone shaking you awake sometime later. Opening your eyes slowly, you turned to see Jacob sitting beside you, prompting you to roll your eyes and look away. 

“Still hot with me?” he asked, moving to his side to try and lie parallel to you. 

Honestly, you were. You didn’t have it in you to even bother looking him in the eyes, but Jacob prompted the thought as his lips found yours. The idea of pulling away from him was there—you even tried not to react—but you found it difficult as you still loved him no matter how furious you were with him. Accepting his kiss, you moved about on the bed to look to him better. “I don’t want to leave you…but you make the thought very easy with your attitude,” you said to him quietly in the hours of the evening. 

Jacob’s chest tensed at your words as he was reminded of the painful words spared earlier. Supporting his head with his hand, his hazel eyes began to search you curiously. “You’re not going to let me go see the reporter alone, are you?” he asked curiously as if searching for an ultimatum in this. 

“No,” you answered intently. “Either I go with you, or I leave here and never come back to you…” 

Your master and lover didn’t respond as you thought he would. Instead, he moved closer to you once more and began to kiss you feverishly. While your heart still ached from the prior exchange, you found it racing again under his actions and easily fell into his advances being none the wiser of what he could possibly be doing. His thigh moving upon your own as if to pen you down while his hands made quick work of your clothing to be rid of it as you worked on returning the favor knowing where his mind was. 

Jacob’s naked body upon your own, he was mindful of his weight and of your breasts as he drifted his touch from your neck towards your chest and then to your sides with his kisses trailing from your lips to your neck to toy with your skin there. In his actions, you could tell he wasn’t exactly hard enough to do anything (if his cock rubbing against your inner thigh was any indication), so you decided to aid Jacob by reaching for his swelling erection and began to harshly stroke the organ. 

You heard him grunt in excitement and his thighs tensed upon such an act. His fingertips casually stroking your outer legs, he stilled in his actions to focus on your touch as his breathing grew heavier by the moment with your rough hold upon his cock going from the base to the tip and then down again to repeat the process. Easily, you could feel it growing upon your touch as you gently pressed your nose against his warm cheek to sample a small taste of his heated breath you could see on the night air. 

His lips touching yours to initiate another kiss, he instructed you further. “Get on your hands and knees, baby girl,” he smirked, aiding you in the position as he backed away from you and helped you move over. 

With you in the pose he had asked, you felt his hands toying with your thighs before feeling his tongue playing with your exposed entrance. Moving your head downward to the pillow nearby, you gasped excitedly as the licks to your womanhood were long and teasing in design. Even the air from his nostrils touching upon your sensitive pedals drove your thighs to tense and quiver and nearly prompt you to buck upon his probing tongue. “You’re…a fucking tease…!” you hissed excitedly as your body began to dew with sweat. 

At your words, Jacob moved to where you could soon feel the head of his erection teasing your entrance soiled by his actions earlier. “My apologies then, love,” he said hoarsely, his hands moving to the bend in your hips to pull you closer to his swollen cock. 

Hands turning into a fist upon the bedcovers, you cried out loudly at feeling him enter inside of you; however, he only partially inserted himself within your begging entrance making you hiss at him again mentally. Seemed Jacob wasn’t done with you. Moving his arm underneath you, he located your swollen clit and began to rub it vigorously to the point you were so blinded by euphoria, you found yourself impaling yourself upon the rest of his length with a series of screams. 

As he continued this relentless action, your climax continued to build till you felt yourself about to explode. Pushing all the way back upon him to where he was sheathed completely within your tight warmth, your fingers gripped the bedcovers as Jacob’s own hold upon you followed the same thought—his nails digging into your skin. “J-Jacob…!” you cried out loudly, closing your eyes as the waves of euphoria took hold of you and caused your walls to crash down around him and try to milk his cock for what it was worth. 

Jacob felt it, and shortly after, he responded to your climax with his own thick, warm seed marking your body. “Bloody hell…” he panted, moving a hand to your thigh to stroke you there as if to tell you that you did a good job. Pulling from your body slowly, he allowed you relief from the tight fit before lowering you slowly back down to your side. 

Following his actions, you hardly needed much coaxing on the idea of lying down to rest. With the child inside of you, you were easily tired and a sexual act only made it all the more difficult to consider staying awake. Jacob noticed this and made sure to try and get you comfortable before moving beside you yet again. The thought that he would be resting beside you calmed your anxious heart, and so you closed your eyes took to sleep. 

The rest was peaceful until you heard the sounds of clothing being moved about an hour or so later. Slowly, you began to flutter your eyes open to the noise encompassing the air to realize that Jacob was getting ready and strapping on his glove. “Jacob?” you called wearily, prompting the Assassin to turn to you with a nasally sigh. 

“(Y/N),” he began, moving close to you, “you need to sleep. You are no doubt tired.” 

You grumbled at his words as you knew what he was up to at that moment. “Trying to fuck me so I am too tired to hear you leave for the reporter, eh…? That’s a low trick…” 

Jacob lowered his head with a muffled moan of discontent as he moved his other hand to his gauntlet to fondle with something in the moonlight. The room was so dark, it was hard to say what he was doing, but you heard something unlatch. Was he actually going to stay? “I am sorry for this, (Y/N),” he said apologetically. 

At first you assumed he was apologizing for the sex trick but it was then you felt something pinch the skin on your neck, and you wondered why the pain was occurring until your eyes started to feel even heavier than before. “J-Jacob…!” you gasped, realizing he was using a tranquilizer dart he pulled from his gauntlet to put you to sleep. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his voice heavy with regret at his actions. “I know you are going to be mad with me, but I have to do this alone, (Y/N)…I care for you too much to let you be caught up in this mess I caused.” 

You struggled to stay awake and even reached out to grab at his arm desperately, but Jacob was intent to pull away from you slowly though his hold on your hand was tight and reassuring as the room started to get darker with your eyelids threatening to close. “D-Don’t do this…!” you pleaded, your grip upon him soon becoming too weak to even hold and your arm fell loosely to the bedside. 

Your eyes closed, but you could hear Jacob still for a moment. 

“Forgive me, (Y/N)…I love you…”

 

\--

 

When the effects of the tranquilizer wore off, you found yourself wide awake and looking about frantically. “Jacob?” you called, pulling the covers off of your body and stumbling to your feet as you were still a bit weakened from the tranquilizer dart used on you earlier.

It was morning from what you could tell. The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and you figured Jacob had to be back home by now. He only meant to talk to the reporter and tell him to stop publishing Jack’s letters as far as you knew unless he had other plans he wasn’t telling you… 

Upon making it out to the kitchen and living room areas you found them vacant of Jacob. Nothing was really out of place to say that he had come back at all, it seemed. “J-Jacob?” you called regardless, trying to see if there was anything that might have been left to signify where he had gone. 

His house. 

Now and again, Jacob would return to his own lodgings in Whitechapel to write to the Council and try to reach Evie as well as converse with the other Assassins in terms of plans against Jack. “He’s…going to be pissed…but I have to see if he’s there…!” you said to yourself, hurrying to grab your Assassin clothing to be on your way. 

Inwardly, you were furious with him as you made your quick journey to his home down the road. You couldn’t believe he’d do something such as that to remove you from his times about Whitechapel. You were trying to be a good and supportive lover and show that you could still hold your own on the battlefield. Why couldn’t Jacob see that? However, the fact that he didn’t return home just from talking to Mr. Weaversbrook was baffling and made your heart beat in fear. 

His home insight, you were quick to enter in through the bedroom window as you didn’t see him lying in bed as you were hoping you would. “Jacob?” you called quietly, your feet soon touching the wooden flooring. “Jacob, are you here…?” 

There was still no answer, and as you moved your way further into the building, you were caught with the remnants of a struggle and you felt your legs nearly give out at the sight. The worst of it was the fact there was a fresh blood stain on the floor, not far away from where you stood at his old desk, and appearing as though someone had been dragged out the door. more than anything you wanted to believe it was some Rook’s who tried to foolishly attack Jacob or Jack’s if he did indeed come knocking…but if Jacob didn’t return back to you after his actions, chances were it was his. 

Hand over your mouth, you tried to prevent yourself from vomiting at the thought as overwhelming sorrow took its hold upon you and made you back up towards his desk, which you gripped onto in desperation to remain standing. “Oh God… ** _Oh God_** …!” you wailed, fingers curling upon your shirt as you gripped your chest area to try and tame your rising worries that Jacob was somehow dead. 

However, sadness was soon replaced with anger, and it was there you pushed yourself to your feet and hurried quickly back towards the window to take to the streets of Whitechapel to find the answers you desired no matter what it took. 

 

 

The Rooks were your only answer…Jacob had left you in the dark about the entire case, so you weren’t even sure if there was anybody left alive in regards to the Assassins or anybody on the streets of Whitechapel in general who could give you any idea as to what might have happened to him. Had it been Jack…? What happened? You kept to the shadows of the alleyways and waited for any Rooks to make their appearances from where you hid, and when the moment happened for you to make your move, you struck like a cobra—grabbing a man garbed in the Rook colors and pulling him into your spider web. 

“Blimey! Watch it!” barked the man, his back soon against the wall as you shoved him there angrily. 

“Where is he!” you demanded to know through your tears only to stop your interrogation upon recognizing the face. 

William Neals. 

Without thinking, your hold on him weakened ever so slightly for a moment. “W-William…! It’s you!” you stuttered in relief. 

“Well, well,” William began, raising a brow at your appearance as he kept his arms raised all the same as if to surrender. “If it isn’t (Y/N). I must admit, love, I am more than surprised to see you alive.” 

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you,” you scoffed, keeping a hold onto his collar all the same. “Tell me—you’ve been here in Whitechapel for long enough now—where is Jack the Ripper?” 

“Jack?” William parroted, looking upward at nothing in particular and apparently playing dumb in the process. “Ah, that lad. Don’t rightly know, love.” He was smirking…and that smirk was enough to make your blood run cold and wonder if you could even trust this man you once fought alongside with years ago. “Probably enjoying his bouts in the Asylum of Lambeth—don’t rightly give two shits, really.” 

“William…?” you questioned, feeling you lose your nerve at the idea that all the Rooks had indeed gone to Jack’s side. 

He pushed you back and away from him when he found it within himself to grab you by the throat and quickly urge you to the opposite wall to where your head hit the bricks so harshly it nearly made you pass out from the impact. “Ah, love…I am sorry about this,” he said in false concern. “But you see, The Ripper will have my head if I don’t at least give him yours.” 

Hearing the shing of a blade being revealed made you panic all the more; especially, when it started to appear before your face and glisten upon the rays of the morning sun. “What the hell is wrong with you!” you exclaimed through your clenched teeth, still struggling to get out of his hold. “Don’t do this! Fight against him!” 

“Ah, I’ve been fighting with him for awhile now, really. That night the boss and you surprised me, I was actually about to murder those lads I was with if they didn’t turn to Jack’s side,” William confessed, tapping the tip of the blade near your cheek to tease the idea he would have his way with you. 

“What about Jacob!” you wondered, wishing some of the Rooks would be considerate of the man who took them under his wing and trained them. 

“You know, funny story, love…” began William with a sly smirk, “…Word travels fast on the streets of jolly ol’ London town, and I heard that you and the boss have been fucking each other’s brains out.” 

Hearing such a thing being said to you made you catch your breath, but you said not an incriminating thing. The flat part of the blade moved against your skin at that moment and made your heart beat rapidly all the same. 

William continued, “There is also a small story that you might be pregnant with his child.” 

It was then the knife moved again, and it began to trail from your face, to your throat, and then to your chest and stomach. “Stop it, William—!” Your words were cut off as he bashed your head against the wall again, causing more pain to rupture forth as you cried out in discontent. You could feel liquid crawling from upon the back of your head—no doubt blood given the prior action. 

“I wonder how much Jack would be willing to give me for, not only your head, but the corpse of your unborn baby when it comes to driving Jacob mad?” 

Hearing Jacob made your body rejuvenate from the prior attacks upon it and you looked to William pleadingly. “Jacob’s alive?” you asked. 

William scoffed at your question. “Hell if I know, (Y/N). Was dragged out of here and out cold by Jack last night. Could be dead in a ditch somewhere or locked away hanging on by a mere thread.” 

Having that thought assault your mind, you screamed angrily and ejected your blade from its hiding spot, sinking the weapon into the traitor’s stomach and pushing him off of you as tears threatened to blind your vision. 

William wasn’t prepared for your attack, but he knew his best way in countering it even as his blood leaked from his wound onto your hand. His fist found your face soon enough, and it caused your head pain to hurt even worse when his knuckles connected to your cheek. Blood…the taste of blood…it was hardly welcoming, but you cared not for what had happened as you did your best to regain your footing in the matter as your blade was harshly pulled from William’s gut. 

He was a veteran when it came to the streets of London, however, and he knew how to stay on top in his fights. His foot moving underneath yours to trip you up, you found yourself back on the soggy ground with his boot soon upon your chest…William digging his heel into you eagerly as he pulled out his revolver. 

You were starting to black out at this point as so many strikes to your head was making you dizzy. Trying to use Jacob as a means to stay focused, it was becoming a challenge as the Rook readied his gun and aimed it at you. 

“Nothing personal, love,” he sneered, William’s eyes glaring at you. “Just business and all that.” 

You thought for sure this would be it. If Jacob was indeed dead the one reprieve you could find in all of this was that you and the child would soon join him. If not…all you could think to do was apologize for your reckless behavior. “Jacob…I am sorry…” Closing your eyes, you waited for it to end. 

“Well, that’s not very gentlemanly of you,” came an unfamiliar male voice in the distance. 

You opened your eyes for a mere moment to watch as William took a bullet straight to the head and fell backward upon the brutal way in which he was executed. Still, you fought to stay awake and to see who your benefactor was, but all you could see was some man in a trench coat with a decorative fabric piece hanging over his left shoulder and a top hat, which looked worn with age. He hadn’t turned to greet you, but in that instance, you couldn’t help but think it was Jacob Frye given the Assassin like appearance of this man. 

Eyes growing heavier by the minute, you were unable to stay conscious for much longer and soon passed out.

 

\--

 

“Hey…are you alright, ma’am?” beckoned a male voice. 

Your fingers started to twitch and curl ever so slightly as you worked on regaining consciousness from the brawl earlier. Head pounding, you flinched as your eyes opened and you tried to get yourself to focus. 

“Ah, coming around, I see,” said the man again as he was slowly coming into view.

The voice was so disorienting it was hard to say who it was, but the slightly blurry image of this man almost reminded you of Jacob. “J-Jacob…?” you questioned, and your eyes widened when you swore it was indeed him given the look of the face. “J-Jacob…!” Hands going right for the cheeks, the male hovering over you finally came into view and it was there you found yourself let down as it wasn’t Jacob. The face and beard were nearly like Jacob’s, but this man sported freckles and hair color not of your lover’s design. 

“Close, I suppose,” answered the man as he took your hands from his face and guided them back down to the covers. “Jacob Frye is my birth father—I am Emmett Frye.” 

“Emmett?” you questioned, hand to your head as you tried to steady your racing mind. “J-Jacob spoke of you before…” 

Emmett laughed at the thought. “That would surprise me. Dad was more of a teacher than an actual father to me, really, but my days of being a right bitter tit about that are over.” He nodded at you, making sure you remained resting. “And who are you? You wear the glove of an Assassin, but I am afraid I do not know who you are.” 

“(Y/N),” you answered simply, turning to Jacob’s son with a dire look. “But Jacob…he was…!” 

“—captured by Jack the Ripper, I know,” interrupted Emmett with a slow nod. He removed the top hat on his head to scratch an annoying itch in his hair before placing it back where it was. “You were out there on your own trying to find him? You realize it’s a might bit dangerous out there right now for a first year Assassin, (Y/N)?” 

You found yourself slowly sitting upright in bed regardless of Emmett insisting you remain lying in recovery. “I have to find him…! If he is still alive…well…Jack…he could…” You paused, not wishing to voice that worry as it pained your heart. 

Emmett hummed in thought, crossing his arms over his decorative attire. “Shouldn’t you be on the sidelines, love?” he questioned. “I overheard part of that bloke’s conversation with you, and if you are pregnant then you shouldn’t be out there at all.” 

The thought didn’t cross your mind as to what else he might have heard. If anything, anger rushed through you as you weren’t about to have this talk again; especially not with Jacob’s son. “I am going to find him…and you can either help with that thought, or piss off while I do it alone!” 

“Come off it, (Y/N),” Emmett hissed disapprovingly. “I saw your moves against a simple Rook, and you are a novice fighter at best! Jack and the other Rooks turned rogue would tear you apart.” 

“No offense, Emmett, but I heard enough of this shit from your father, and I don’t intend to hear it from you,” you growled, pushing your way past him as you found yourself to your feet from the bed you were upon. 

“You would rush this brazenly into battle?” he questioned, disappointed in your actions. “Did my father teach you nothing?” 

Hearing Emmett mention Jacob again, you paused in your footsteps when it came to making your way to the door. Sighing through your nostrils, you lowered your head in defeat. “‘You need to keep a control on your emotions’…‘only think of what is important’…” Turning on your heels, you looked to Emmett there with a heavy heart. “That’s what he taught me…”

Emmett merely nodded, as if in understanding and as though he had been through that same lesson and lecture. “Seems the old man’s not lost his touch,” he commented, crossing his arms upon his chest. “(Y/N), take heart—my Aunt Evie is looking for him as we speak. I was myself until I came across you.” 

You shook your head slowly at the idea regardless. “I wish I could, Emmett, but I cannot and will not let that insane man take Jacob like this.” 

“Fine, you wish to help him?” the fellow Assassin asked, prompting you to nod. “Then let’s work on getting the Rooks back in line, yes?” 

“How? They have all gone under Jack’s wing and turned on us!” 

“They probably think at this point that Jacob and you were the only Assassins left alive and about in London,” Emmett pointed out, pulling out his revolver about that time to start loading the gun again. “Well, now they have **_me_** to contend with, and I will kill any of those wankers that think it is alright to side with that madman, Jack.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the man’s words. “I can easily see where you get it from having been around Jacob for far too long.” 

“Ah, like I’ve not heard that one before, (Y/N),” Emmett insisted, moving past you to get the door. 

As you worked with Emmett to get the Rooks to come back to the side of the Fryes, you were forced to work from the shadows of the whole ordeal in case things went crazy. It was easier to just sit out of sight and start shooting if Emmett needed aid, but it was a challenge when all you could think about was Jacob’s wellbeing. 

“I must admit, Emmett,” you began one evening upon the rooftop of a building, “you are awfully calm for a man whose father may or may not be alive.” 

“Because I know that bloke better than you, love,” Emmett reminded you, leaning against the nearby chimney. “My father is a stubborn sort…he won’t lie over and die like a common dog.” 

You smiled briefly at the thought, and it honestly brought a bit of calm to your anxieties on the matter. “I just feel like I should be out there looking for him…tearing London apart just to find Jack and beat the living shit out of him.” 

Emmett was quiet for a moment as he lightly tapped his fingers upon the curve of his arms in thought. “Knowing that old chap, he wants you alive, (Y/N)—not dead trying to unearth his whereabouts.” 

You scoffed and nodded. “Yeah, he made that pretty clear day in and day out when Jack started taking over.” Still, you shook your head as your sigh was obvious upon the cold, London air. “I just…I just worry about him and want him back.” 

Again, Jacob’s son was quiet. “How long have you both been together?” Emmett finally came right out to ask. 

Hearing that question made your cheeks turn bright red in embarrassment, and you hesitantly turned to look at him. “Mad…are you…?” you asked nervously. 

Emmett fixed his arms across his chest once more, looking upward at nothing in particular with a sideways twist of his mouth in thought. “Mm, no,” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. “Who he wants to bonk is none of my business, really.” 

“Then you understand my worry…my worry that this child will grow up not having a father in its life…” Gradually, you shook your head at the thought as your eyes threatened to swell up with tears. “Can you even imagine that sort of thing?” 

“I can, actually,” Emmett responded with knowledge on the subject. When you looked at him curiously, Emmett pulled himself from the chimney and moved beside you to sit. “Dad was hardly there for me growing up, and when he was, he was in ‘teacher mode’.” 

“Was it really all that bad?” you questioned with a raise of your brow. 

Emmett laughed, almost bitterly. “You’ve trained with him, (Y/N)—tell me…what did you think of him?” 

Thinking back on all the times you wanted to strangle Jacob or damn his name for being a tough mentor and a heartless one too, you nodded in understanding. “I retract the question…” 

He stifled a laugh behind his lips. “Exactly,” he said, dragging out the word intentionally for one reason or another. Here, Emmett removed the top hat he was wearing and began to fondle with the rim of it a bit. “But, like I said: I am over it now. Dad was doing his best to raise me right. Things just got bloody mad right quick, it seemed; especially, between him and mum.” 

“How is she doing about all of this?” you asked curiously. 

Again, he laughed, but a bit more vocally. “Woman can’t stand him none. She despises his Assassin heritage and blames him for me becoming one when it was my own choice, really.” He shrugged, raking his fingers through his hair. “A small part of her misses him, though. I can tell.” 

You smiled briefly at the thought. Even if you did go to Crawley as Jacob asked and refused him back into your life, you had to admit you would miss him too. “I have to find him…I just have to…!” you insisted, taking to your feet slowly. 

“And what about the Rooks?” Emmett questioned, wanting to keep you occupied with that nonsense for his own personal reasons. 

“Jacob said something about Jack being part of an asylum—William too,” you commented, ignoring Emmett’s question. 

“The asylum of Lambeth, yes,” he clarified, taking to his feet after you. “You do realize that’s quite a run from here; especially, for a pregnant Assassin.” 

“It’s called a carriage, for God’s sake,” you hissed at Emmett, jabbing at his chest. “Get me a carriage and take me to this asylum in Lambeth!” 

Emmett jerked his head back in confusion, placing the top hat back upon his head. “Whatever for?” 

You rolled your eyes. Obviously, Emmett couldn’t be that dense. “Our answers could very well be there, and I want to find out more about this Jack.” 

Without further questioning on the subject, Emmett did as you asked and took the reins of the horse to guide you to the asylum. From Whitechapel all the way to Lambeth, it was indeed a long ride. The entire way there you couldn’t help but feel like your heart was in your throat. Would you two encounter Jack along the way? How was Evie doing? You hadn’t heard a word from her, and when there was word of her, a mere bird brought the letters to Emmett in her name. 

The ride went as smooth as any ride could go, and you found yourself at the gates of the asylum but with the police all around. “What is going on?” you asked, opening the door of the carriage just a bit to get a better look as Emmett brought the stagecoach to a stop. 

“Seems something is brewing here,” he murmured between the two of you as he dismounted off of the carriage to aid you out of it next. 

“Could it be Jack?” you questioned, staying behind Emmett as he took to the nearby wall of the building. 

“Don’t rightly know, love,” he answered, listening in on the conversation not far away. When he realized the words weren’t gracing his ears properly, he raised a hand to you gently. “Wait here.” 

You could wait regardless of how difficult it was to do so. As Emmett overheard the conversations with the officers not far away, you saw him quickly heading back to you to whisper the news he had received. “Evie is inside…so is Jack and Inspector Frederick Abberline.” 

“And Jacob? Any news of him?” you asked quickly, eyes searching Emmett’s for an answer of some sort. 

“I’ve not heard if he’s here, but it sounds like Aunt Evie is attacking—(Y/N)!” he scolded, as you had pushed your way past Emmett at that point to get your way through to the asylum. 

“I am not going to wait here if he is indeed there and in trouble!” you reminded the fellow Assassin, hurrying towards the front doors as quickly as possible with your weapons at the ready.

Emmett continued to try and stop you, but you wouldn’t have it. Pushing your way through, you were stopped by a familiar sight just past the front doors. Seeing the bodies there, the one in the arms of the female was enough to make you recoil and catch your breath at the sight. 

Jacob Frye was being guided out by the aid of, whom you could assume to be, Evie Frye and this inspector Emmett mentioned earlier. Jacob was beaten…left eye a total mess to the point you wondered if Jack had removed it or merely damaged it so badly that Jacob couldn’t use it. Again, since his fall from Big Ben, you had never seen him look so helpless and it nearly made you ill seeing one so strong have fallen.

 “Jacob!” you screamed, hurrying over towards him with your hands to your mouth before finding it within you to reach out and touch his blooded cheek. 

“Careful with him now,” Evie instructed, her voice a soothing mother like tone to your ears. “He is barely conscious given the hell he was put through.” 

You could hardly think to acknowledge that fact as your hands found his face gently and tried to get him to look at you. The Assassin was tired, and it showed when Jacob opened the one eye he could use to look at you. Just seeing him actively moving his other eye (of all things) was enough to make you break down and cry in relief as you kissed his forehead. “Thank God…thank God you’re alright…” you whimpered, even if you weren’t sure the extent of the damage done to him.


	5. Through the Eye of Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of The Fall series where Jacob feels threatened by Emmett’s presence about the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

You thought the fall from Big Ben was the worse of it, but nothing came close for the horrible beatings and torment Jacob went through when in Jack’s handling. Jacob was missing for days during that event, and with him mostly in recovery, Jacob didn’t say much of what he endured when imprisoned. However, if the nightmares that occurred told you anything…it obviously was something that really traumatized him to the point of becoming restless at night.

He would wake up at odd hours, nearly yelling in pain—as though some invisible force had a hold on him—and it was the most heartbreaking thing to witness. Because of his sudden flailing sometimes, you couldn’t afford to sleep in the same bed as him and took to your chair at the bedside instead, as you worried for him lately and couldn’t afford to just sleep on the sofa as he insisted you do with you pregnant.

You did try not to frustrate Jacob, however, and pretended to sleep in the other room from time to time only to sneak back into the bedroom to watch him rest. The last thing you wanted was your mentor getting upset and hurting himself further as Jack dealt a lot of damage to the Assassin—he had nearly left Jacob in a vegetable like state.

It was difficult for Jacob to move out of bed to the point Evie, Emmett, or yourself had to get food to him or something to drink. He needed help for everything lately including bathing, getting to the bathroom, and changing his clothes. You were relieved this sort of situation wasn’t eternal…it would break your heart if that were the case.

As you watched him sleep during the night one evening, you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell in agony at the sight of him. Jacob’s left eye was bandaged over, as it needed to heal given the handy work Jack had done to it and even his left arm was suspended from use across his chest no thanks to a few broken bones, which needed to recover. You knew, underneath the blankets and his evening attire, he was even worse off, and you found yourself lowering your head in shame upon the bridge your interlaced fingers created.

“I should have been there for him,” you whispered pitifully in the quiet darkness of the room. “He should have let me come with him…”

As you continued to lament over the thought, you felt a reassuring hand upon your shoulder slightly remove you from your tearful position, and you looked up to the on watching eyes of Emmett Frye. When you had finally graced your sight to his, you felt him gently shake you to your senses on the matter, and it was there a smile flickered upon your lips as you moved a hand to Emmett’s touch to assure him his presence was welcomed.

“There would have been nothing you could have done, (Y/N),” Emmett reminded you quietly so as not to rouse his slumbering father. “The outcome would have been the same…only worse, as Jack would have murdered you and your child.”

You tried to crack a brief, joking laugh at Emmett’s words. “Insulting my fighting again, are you?” Honestly, it didn’t matter to you, but your words still came out accidentally hurt and heavy with pain. Even if he was trying to be reassuring, Emmett was right—you were a lackluster fighter, and if you had only been better, you might have made a difference. Cracking under the pressures of agony in that realization, you released a choking gasp of regret and found yourself covering your tearful face in embarrassment.

Emmett reacted, and you felt his hands move then and migrate your lowered head closer to his abdomen for a gentle, reassuring hug as you were sitting and he was standing. When you relented to his offer, he rubbed your back in a gentle manner to try and calm you. “He is alive, (Y/N),” Emmett felt the need to remind you. “You should be relieved by that thought alone.”

You couldn’t stop crying. “You don’t understand, Emmett,” your muffled voice insisted against his attire, grabbing onto his decorative trench coat in a pleading manner. “It’s like…knowing that the strongest man you’ve ever known isn’t as strong as you think…it’s like seeing God fall from grace…” It was hard to find the right thing to parallel it with, but you did your best all the same.

The fellow Assassin’s fingers found your chin, and it was there the son of Jacob urged you to look up at him. “It’s like knowing your father has weaknesses and not always right or as strong as you led yourself to believe he was,” Emmett said softly in a means to show he understood where you were coming from. “As a young lad, it was hard watching someone as strong and mighty as my own father fall apart and show how weak he could be. You always assume your parents are as great and unbreakable as the bloody buildings of London themselves, but then, one day…they don’t have all the answers you’re expecting, nor is their foundation as powerful as you once thought, and you watch them slowly crumble.”

Knowing what he was referencing, you closed your eyes tightly to force more tears from your view before managing a soft sigh to Emmett’s words. “I am sorry you had to go through that as well,” you sympathized, your voice quivering upon every word you spared him.

Emmett shrugged his brow, thinned his lips and slowly closed and reopened his eyes to show there was pain in that matter hidden somewhere within him, but he wasn’t going to focus on it if he could avoid it. “I got over it sometime ago, love,” Emmett whispered to you.

As you attempted to enjoy in the quiet, you were quickly pulled from the thought as Jacob began to stir violently again in his sleep. He was hissing in pain again and nearly on the verge of yelling. You didn’t want to hear it go full circle again…hearing Jacob screaming as though he was horrified was a nightmare on its own for you, so you nearly found your feet only to be urged back into place by Emmett.

One hand upon your shoulder, he slightly raised the other with a sort of ‘I got this’ look to him. He knew that one time Jacob accidentally smacked you in the face with the back of his hand when you thought to come over and wake him from the last nightmare he had. The main thing that aroused Jacob in that instance was the fact he accidentally used his broken arm to defend himself from your presence, causing him more pain. He merely bruised your skin in the process, and no teeth were lost, but it still made Evie and Emmett insist you keep your distance till the nigh terrors lessened.

“Father?” Emmett called out, grabbing onto Jacob’s upper arms gently to keep him in place and make sure he wasn’t assaulted by accident next. “Father, it’s Emmett—wake up!” Emmett’s voice was as soft as it could be as he tried to not sound so assertive that it scared Jacob.

Jacob did almost retaliate at Emmett but with the younger Assassin’s hold on him tightening upon the arms, Jacob was rendered powerless to do so. Apparently, Jacob felt so cornered that his eyes shot open with a harsh gasp to follow—his face even jerking back slightly at the sight of his own son, as if having a hard time placing Emmett in that instance and seeing him as an enemy.

“Do you know who I am?” Emmett asked, noticing the bewildered look in his father’s eye.

You lowered your head in your hands as you hated the sight…not this again…trying to jog Jacob’s memory only sprang back memories of his fall from Big Ben. Trying not to cry and draw attention to yourself, you failed miserably in the process and a small whine found its way past your sealed lips as tears dampened your palms.

There was silence in the room, but you heard minor shuffling. “Do you remember her?” Emmett’s voice probed onward. “Do you remember (Y/N)?”

When you found the courage to slowly remove your hands from your teary sight, you saw Jacob gazing at you as his mind attempted to work. You had never seen him look at you as though you were a stranger before and it tore your heart apart. These nightmares were so frightening and real to him that Jacob seemed to have relapses in memory—taking him a moment to try and remember a few things.

Jacob’s hazel eyes shifted about in the room lit only by moonlight, and you could see his lower lip tremble as he tried to say something. “…(Y/N)…” he beckoned more than answered, causing you to look to him curiously. He struggled to speak again, but he found his words as well as a bit of memory as to where he was and what was going on. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

It was late—well past midnight—but you couldn’t sleep. It was hard to find peace to do so lately anyways with Jacob in this state. Even if his voice was attempting to be stern, you couldn’t help but smile briefly at his words to know he was very much still there. “I will be fine,” you whispered, the pressures of sadness ebbing away any chance of a faux happiness you could muster.

Jacob could see right through you. Even if you were upset and his mind was a mess, he could easily notice that you were burdened by something. “Em…Emmett,” he stuttered, turning to his son there in the room, “can you excuse us for a second?”

Emmett appeared reluctant to the thought as he gazed from Jacob to you and then back to his father again with a deepening frown that reminded you a bit of Jacob himself—in small ways, Emmett showed parts of his father within him, and it made you smile at the realization of the traits of father and son. “Alright,” Emmett relented, removing his hold slowly from his wounded father. “If you need anything, I will be just outside the door.”

Jacob nodded, moving his other hand, which was fine to do so, and watched as his son slowly exited the room. When the close of the door gave him the solace he needed that there was one less person in the room, it was then he turned to you, and you felt the desire to break down crying right then and there, but you did your best to refrain.

The wounded Assassin fixed himself slightly on the bed and opened his mouth to speak again, but you saw him hesitating as he was trying to find the right words (or perhaps trying to get his body to communicate properly as it should). “(Y/N)…come here,” he said in a string of words, which nearly had difficulty coming from his mouth.

You, surprisingly, shook your head. It was a regretful answer to his request, but you couldn’t bear to be near him when he was like this. It tore at your heart and was the product of your own nightmares.

“I cannot come to you, so you have to come to me,” Jacob stressed in the dim lighting of the bedroom.

He was right, and you couldn’t afford to have him daringly try to move to you, so you found your feet and ventured to the bedside to sit beside him.

Jacob didn’t say anything. His hand, which he could move better than the one closest to you, was able to migrate its way over his wounded chest and hold onto your hand for support. It was comforting…he was trying to be comforting…and in that moment of weakness, you looked away with a bite of your lower lip to still your quivering lip.

“(Y/N).” Jacob’s voice was like a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason, and you found your free hand upon your chest as if to quell the ache in your heart. “Can you do me a favor, love?” When your eyes found the courage to gaze upon him, you asked in your expression as to what he needed. “Can you remove the dressing over my eye? It is getting bloody irritating…I think the bandages just need changing.”

Sniffling back your sadness, you nodded with a labored sigh while moving to do as he asked. The process of unwrapping his eye was a painful one, but the reveal of the damage that was done to it was even worse. It was still a blooded mess, and even Jacob could hardly open it but a small bit to where you could only see white and red fighting for dominance in his eye.

When you stalled at saying anything, gazing at him intently so, Jacob raised a weary brow. “Well? Is it that bad?” he asked, trying to laugh meekly at the thought that you were merely repulsed by the sight.

You weren’t even really put off by the look of what had become of it, but merely upset and overwhelmed by what had caused it. Face contorting into unspeakable pain, you slowly shook your head before your body lightly convulsed from a quick burst of tears that shook your exhausted form.

Jacob sighed softly at the inner turmoil you were going through and your name escaped his lips in a pleading manner. “(Y/N)…”

Moving your forehead, you rested it against his gently while your tears streamed down your cheeks, pooled upon your chin, and then dripped to caress Jacob’s lips. “I am sorry I was so fucking worthless…I am sorry I wasn’t there to save you…I am sorry I couldn’t do much to help you…!” The words just kept coming out in a heap of nonsense.

His moveable hand found its way to the back of your head as he tried to sooth you with his nose moving to bury against your tear stained cheek. “You were not worthless, you hear me?” Jacob reminded you, his lips teasing your skin as he spoke to you. “A lad can stand on his own two feet as much as he desires, but without the emotional support of the woman he loves or her knowledge on what is best for his health…his foundation becomes quite rubbish, actually.”

You tried to laugh happily at that thought, but the sadness strangling your core made the smile very short lived as your body still quivered at the sight of him so beat up as this.

“The sword and the sheath, I guess they call it,” Jacob commented, his voice still heavy with exhaustion though he cracked a brief smile that reminded you of his former self. “Don’t take that in a…perverse direction.”

Another laugh was able to surface from you at his choice of words, moving a caring hand to his messy hair to try still him for the moment as you moved to the nearby nightstand to get the clean gauze, medicine and the wooden bowl you used for water in cleaning any wounds you undressed. “I am sorry,” you whispered, trying to get yourself under control as you poured the jar of water into the wooden container and groped for the clean towel. “I just…I was worried I lost you…”

Jacob struggled to speak for a second on the matter, and you felt him shift about uncomfortably. “They say I am ‘alive’, but I hardly feel it, (Y/N),” Jacob admitted somberly.

You flinched at his words, wishing he wouldn’t say such a thing.

“Can hardly eat without help, can’t move even a few feet without aid either…bloody hell,” he hissed irritably, looking away out of shame, “I can’t even piss without someone helping me.”

“They said you would get better,” you insisted, not wishing to hear this sort of nonsense now as you wrung out the towel you had dampened in water to move it towards his blooded eye to clean the places around it. When Jacob flinched and even sought to nearly push the help away, you only relented for a second as you whispered ‘don’t fight me’ to get him to settle, allowing you to continue. Other hand to his face to keep him steady, you sniffled back your sadness. “It is only temporary—this arrangement, Jacob.”

“Not temporary, love,” Jacob insisted, making you glare at him as if angered he would say such a thing and play with your fears. With that look, it was enough to make him heavily sigh. “You do realize I am going to get older…eventually, you’ll be doing this every day of my life till I die.”

“Jacob,” you exhaled upsettingly in return, sitting backward and halting in your progress with cleaning his face. “Must we talk about this now?”

He swallowed harshly, as if to stop the words that wanted to surface. “I just hope this is what you want,” Jacob finally expressed in the dark room.

Grabbing his chin, you loosened your grip when you heard a muffled groan of pain. “Look at me, Jacob Frye,” you demanded, words equally quiet in return given the atmosphere. “I don’t care about your age or how crippled you think you’ll become in twenty years from now or even thirty years from now—I love you, and I hope you realize that!”

The one eye that worked shifted about in the dimly lit room, as if to be sure there was no hesitation in your expression when you gave your confession. He opened his mouth, words besieged for a second to form until he replied, “I love you too, (Y/N).”

“Alright then,” you began in a gentle tone, continuing to work on cleaning his eye. “Let’s just work on this and then we’ll talk later. You need to sleep.”

Jacob flinched when you got too close to his wounded eye and even a growl of displeasure in the idea of sleep could be heard rumbling in his throat. “I would rather **_you_** get some sleep,” he insisted, flaring his nostrils irritably that you hadn’t already.

Your answer was quick, “I will be fine.”

“(Y/N), need I remind you that you are pregnant?”

“You remind me daily,” you responded firmly, finishing with his eye and moving to the medicine to work on applying it to the gauze.

Jacob rolled his one working eye. “Do you want to have this child or not? You also still have a leg that needs healing; need I remind you of that as well?”

Hands collapsing to your lap, you sucked in your lower lip while gazing up at the ceiling in a mute attempt to steady your frustration. You needed just a minute to recollect yourself and not accidentally lash out at his persistent behavior. Looking to Jacob, you narrowed your eyes angrily but your voice remained soft. “Jacob, my leg is fine, and the baby is fine—so stop worrying!”

“Emmett and Evie are here,” Jacob assured you as you finished with the medicine and went for the injured eye to try and apply it as needed. “They can take care of me.”

“It’s fine, Jacob,” you insisted still, working on wrapping the bandages now about his head so they would stay anchored in place. “Emmett goes out now and again to get what I need for food when Evie isn’t here, and he helps me work on my leg. You have nothing to fret about.”

Apparently, something you said made the Assassin go quiet. When you finished wrapping his injury, you noticed that Jacob was staring ahead at nothing in particular—as though his mind was racing.

“Jacob?” you probed curiously, causing his eye to shift upward to you with a slight wrinkle of his brow in the process. “Something wrong?”

“I’m fine, it’s just…” Jacob stalled and shook his head slowly at the thought before moving his free hand to his face. “…I am just tired.”

“You’ve not been sleeping well in sometime now,” you said with a crease of your own brow to express your concern. “Did you need me to get you anything before you try to sleep again?”

Jacob moved his hand slightly to the offer to dismiss it. “I should be fine till morning, love.” His tone was heavy, but you couldn’t say it was with weariness as he claimed…it sounded like he was upset over something you said.

You nodded slowly at his words, hoping that he was indeed alright regardless of what he was insisting. “Okay,” you said in a gentle tone, caressing his beard, noticing in that instance that it was becoming thick once more. “Need to shave you again soon.”

“Emmett can manage that,” Jacob sighed, closing his eyes to try and relax himself to sleep. “So don’t worry about it. I’ll get him to do it tomorrow morning.”

His tone was flat when mentioning his own son, and you couldn’t help but raise a brow to his vocal response curiously. Emmett even admitted to you before that Jacob and he rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything. You could tell Emmett still very much respected and loved his father, but given the damage of the marriage falling apart and Jacob going into ‘teacher mode’, it made their own relationship strained at best.

“If you insist,” you responded, moving to kiss his lower lip before cradling his cheek against your palm. “I will see you in the morning then, yes?”

Jacob smiled briefly at the thought, and as you turned to head for the door, you heard him halt you. “(Y/N)?”

You paused, turning on your heels with your hand on the doorknob. “Yes? What is it?”

He struggled to speak up on what it was he desired. Perhaps he was embarrassed? Honestly, you couldn’t say given the darkness of the room. “Why don’t you sleep here in this bed with me tonight?”

It was very childlike—the request. Even his voice held a bit of concern for the thought of sleeping alone, and it was there you departed from the door for a moment to make your way over towards him once more to try and reassure Jacob of whatever fears he was enduring. “I can’t,” you somberly replied to his request. “Your nightmares cause you to lash out unknowingly, and I…this is where you know I have to think of the baby and me, Jacob.” You moved your fingers to his hair and began to work on massaging his scalp in a feeble attempt to relax his mind and body. “Don’t worry. I will be right back.”

Jacob’s fingers fiddle about idly on the covers across his chest, looking away from you and then back again as he knew you were right. “No, you need to sleep,” he said more in a battle with himself than to usher you to rest. “Go to sleep as you need on the sofa…I’ll see you in the morning, love.”

You wished you could figure out what was wrong, but admittedly, you were tired, and you could tell Jacob was too. Departing with a kiss once more, you took your leave of the room and found Emmett just outside with his back against the parallel wall, arms crossed and his head partially down as one foot supported his stance against the old woodwork.

“How is he?” Emmett asked, moving his head to gaze upon you in the darkened hallway.

“I am sure you know, as you were no doubt eavesdropping Emmitt,” you jabbed teasingly with a small smile.

“Old habits die hard, (Y/N),” he joked in return with a playful smirk you could just make out in the dimness. He moved then, slapping his hands to his sides as he ushered you back to the living room where you usually found rest as of late. “I’ll shave him in the morning. He needs a bath anyways, and I can handle that.” Emmett lightly chuckled to himself as he was trying to be playful with the thought, but you could hardly find relief in the situation—try as you might.

You found the old cushions of the sofa relaxing upon lowering yourself to them finally. It had been a long day, and you now were starting to feel the repercussions of having not slept well yourself in the past several weeks. “I appreciate that, Emmett,” you yawned, shaking your head sadly all the same.

Emmett removed his top hat and scratched his head with a heavy sigh. “I wish I knew what to say about it all, love,” he began, flipping his hat back upon his head after slicking his hair back. “All I can say is what Evie and I have said a million times already: he will get better.”

You reclined backward on the sofa to try and prepare for rest, fixing the quilt over yourself with a nasally sigh. “I know…” Looking back at Emmett and noticing the warn look of his top hat, you couldn’t help but giggle wearily. “You really should get another hat. That one is falling apart—hardly black as it once was, and the fabric is all mudded.”

The young man’s sight rolled upward at the item in question before his eyes found yours again. “Quite. It was my father’s,” Emmett admitted, taking it off again out of reflex of you mentioning it to eye the wear and tear on it. “It’s about…twenty-four or so years old? Seen a fair bit, I will admit.” He then tossed it to you where you could hold onto it if you so desired.

Catching it in your hands, you looked it over from top to bottom curiously. So it belonged to Jacob once upon a time? That was interesting to know. “Jacob was too cheap to buy you a new one?” you asked teasingly with a sideways smirk.

Emmett waved the accusation away. “Mm, he told me I kept stealing it as a lad. Never did quite fit on my head for awhile until about my early young adult years, I want to say. By then, he let me have it, and I’ve worn it ever since.” Emmett crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged as his side found support against the nearby wall. “It is the part of him that I really remember as a young lad—wearing that hat as he did and being a cocky arsehole,” the young Assassin said teasingly as he spoke, but a forlorn heaviness was easily heard in the backdrop of his vocals as he continued, “…so carefree, happy, and full of life back then, he was…so I just keep that part of him with me—always.”

Now you could see why he refused to be rid of it, and understanding the meaning behind it, you handed the top hat back to its owner. “I see. It explains why you are hardly seen without it.”

Emmett let the hat rest back upon his head with a nasally, playful huff. “Indeed,” he commented, motioning towards the sofa you were lying upon. “Rest now; I will stay and keep my father company.” Here, he grabbed onto the nearby decorative armrests and leaned forwards to try and catch your obscured sight. “I assume you don’t need anything from me?”

You shook your head before finding rest upon your side. Cradling the pillow close to your cheek, you closed your eyes for the evening—too tired to even vocally say your ‘goodnights’ to Emmett.

 

\--

 

You at least were able to sleep that evening. Nothing was able to truly rouse you from your peaceful slumber you had longed for till you heard the muffled sound of conversation beyond one of the nearby walls, which concealed the lavatory. Fluttering your eyes open slowly, you hummed in weary curiosity before sitting upright on the sofa to try and make sense of the sounds you were hearing.

“Oi, will you stop squirming about like a bloody child? Do you want me to slice your throat?”

“You’re taking too damn long!”

“Well, if you’d actually stop moving about, this would be over that much quicker.”

It was starting to register now who was talking—Emmett and Jacob.

It was still cold about London, and so you took the quilt and made your way over towards the lavatory’s door. It wasn’t cracked or anything of the sort, so you only had the voices to occupy you and listen to what was being said.

“There,” Emmett finally signed, the sound of something metal tapping against the sink. “Bloody hell, father—you are the absolute worst when it comes to trimming you. You’d think it was torture.”

“I am used to doing it myself,” grumped Jacob.

Emmett could be heard exhaling his words, “Yes, well…you have me for that bit now. Just have to make do with it.”

Jacob had no counter response, it seemed, and merely remained quiet for a moment or two.

“You may be bedridden, but it doesn’t mean you need to look like you were indeed done up like a kipper,” Emmett playfully chastised. “I am sure (Y/N) will think you look better this way.”

There was silence still on Jacob’s end until he finally found his voice. “How long have you known?” Jacob asked, his words insinuating that he was regretful to have his son realize he was in love with a much younger woman.

“Since I came into town and found her,” Emmett answered truthfully, moving a few things about behind the door (possibly cleaning the space). “She was barking mad to attack Rooks on the street being up the duff as she was. You think a woman like that is going to do such a thing without there being a reason to it?” When Jacob didn’t respond, Emmett chuckled all the same. “Father, I am not surprised…I **_know_** you.”

You heard a short yet teasing scoff come from Jacob’s side of the banter as if he took those words with pride. “I haven’t the foggiest of what you mean.”

Emmett stalled before responding. “You know what I mean.” It was as if he didn’t want to go into depth about it, and the way he phrased it made you nervous…did Emmett know you were outside the door? He appeared very alert unlike his father. “And that child—what are you going to tell the Council?”

Again, Jacob sighed as you heard him situate himself in the chair he was probably sitting in. “I already wrote them and told the British Brotherhood Council that she is pregnant and has to be removed from the field. They granted my blessing in that notion…”

Emmett noted the derailing of Jacob’s words. “But..?”

The chair Jacob sat upon moaned under his movements. “They want to know who the father is, as I knew they would.”

“Father, you know they are going to bleeding crucify you for this,” Emmett reminded Jacob eagerly.

“I know, but I cannot let her take the blame.”

Emmett mumbled something, but you couldn’t quite hear what it was as it seemed his hands were possibly over his mouth in distress at the idea.

“You know what they will do if they think she just got pregnant without thinking!” Jacob chastised, his voice rising but quickly falling perhaps in thought of you still sleeping nearby. “They will take her child from her and have me either execute her or banish her for this selfish act!”

The very thought made your heart beat rapidly and your palms felt clammy upon your neck at the realization that Jacob would have to behead you for such a thing.

“And they will possibly do far worse to you, father, should you admit your involvement in this!” Emmett countered.

“What would you have me do?” Jacob hissed angrily, his tone very unpleasant as you could tell he was furious.

“Think of a better plan!” When Jacob merely groaned at Emmett’s request, the young Assassin spoke up again, “I’ll be the father to this child if that’s what the Council wants to hear! I am closer to her in age anyways—it’ll be more excusable and believable.”

Jacob was quiet and his voice almost sounded horrified. “What…?”

“Bloody hell, father, not literally,” Emmett corrected, the sound of his hands slapping upon his thighs. “If they need the name and face of the man responsible, tell them it was me, and then nobody loses in this!”

“You know they will still scold you for this, Emmett,” Jacob reminded his son. “For a man and woman to birth out of wedlock is frowned upon….you know this, right?”

“Rather they frown those old wrinkled faces at me than you,” Emmett insisted to his father. “When do they expect a response? Have you written them yet?”

“What are you doing there?” came a familiar voice from behind you, causing you to jerk upright to attention and quickly pull your focus from the voices in the lavatory.

It was Evie, and honestly, you hadn’t heard her come in from her missions about Whitechapel, and it made you nearly jump out of your skin. She had been doing her best to get the Rooks back under the Assassin’s control, and Evie and Emmett usually swapped now and again when it came to the rounds about the city as both wanted to check in on Jacob to make sure he was doing well.

“O-Oh, Evie…!” you said in a quiet voice, not wishing to alert the men to your presence as you pulled quickly from the door. “Sorry, I was just—.” Your sweaty palms clasped before your nightgown, you were lacking any sort of excuse on your behalf. You felt like a young girl caught doing something you shouldn’t before her mother.

“Let them prattle on in private, (Y/N),” said Evie in a soft tone, urging you back to the living room quarters where she got you to sit. “Besides, I can tell you are quite knackered right now. You should sleep still as you got very little last night.”

She was so soft spoken, patient, and very motherly in a way…such a difference to her twin brother, Jacob. “I appreciate that, Evie, but I am just worried about Jacob.”

“We all are,” Evie reminded you kindly, her old eyes lidded in concern at the thought. “But he will be alright. I’ve known that man since we were born, and I can easily tell you how stubborn he is.” Her words expressed her teasing mannerisms, and Evie did her best to sooth your worries as she took her gloved hands to your legs and aided you in trying to lie back down.

“I didn’t really go to bed till sometime after midnight, really,” you admitted wearily, grabbing onto the quilt to fix it upon your body eagerly so. “It was hard to find a reason to rest with all things considered.” You hadn’t the heart to really look her in the eyes upon admitting such a thing.

A tender, knowing sigh escaped Evie. “Jacob had another nightmare again, didn’t he?”

You flinched at having to recall the scene. “Yes.”

“It will take some time, but I know Jacob will get through this,” Evie assured you, sitting down on what space she could on the sofa.

A small smile made a brief appearance as you thought about his fall from Big Ben again. “I am just relieved he can still think properly,” you said in a soft tone. “He had a nasty fall from Big Ben some months ago and was in a coma for awhile.”

Evie’s voice was quick and urgent. “When was this now?” It was obvious she hadn’t heard the story and probably for good reason—Jacob didn’t want to worry her the most.

You turned slightly to your side to catch her fretful gaze. “I think sometime earlier in the year…it is hard to remember.” Honestly, the nights that followed after his fall were such a nightmare and a blur (not to mention with him admitting his feelings to you sometime after too) that you hadn’t thought to keep track of the time about then.

“That reckless fool!” Evie scolded in quiet, clenching her fist upon her thigh. “I have half a mind to box his ears for that!”

You knew that was the last thing he needed, and you were quick to try and calm her. “Please, don’t tell him anything about it! I am sure he kept quiet for a reason…”

Evie shook her head, allowing a few stray strands to fall from her decorative, brown hair she had done up in a braided bun. “He has been falling apart for years, (Y/N),” Evie admitted in concern. “He used to be a much different man.” Her fists seemed to clench at voicing that—as though she felt partially responsible for Jacob’s decline. “With my departure and the death of our old, childhood friend of my father’s, George Westhouse, it got really difficult for him.” She paused and added with a heavy sigh, “Not to mention Jack suddenly becoming unstable and then the collapse of his marriage being added on top of that. **_Blast_** …I should have stayed around for him after the passing of our old friend and teacher!”

You weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t know Evie that well nor did you understand her obligations in India, so you weren’t sure if anything you added would make a difference. “Then why not just come back to London? I can tell he does miss you.”

Evie clasped her hands together before her crossed legs, thinking it over for a moment or two. “I’ll have to talk to Henry, but if Jacob keeps damaging himself such as this, well…I worry for him and where he will be in the next five years. He used to be reckless in his younger age too, but not at the near expense of his own life.”

As soon as she ended her concern, she stalled and you did too when the door to the lavatory opened finally. Emmett was able to remove Jacob from the washroom within the old, wooden wheelchair that the doctors had granted them for making the man mobile in the home. Both of Jacob’s legs were damaged and with the trauma that was done to his head, the elder Assassin still needed to work on trying to reconnect with them as it was—making it difficult to move him unless in that clunky looking chair.

“Ah, Evie!” Emmett began, straightening up and acting coy at the presence of his aunt. “I wasn’t aware you got in just now.”

“I did just arrive, actually,” Evie partially lied, departing from the couch and making her way over to her nephew and Jacob. Her gloved hand found its way to Jacob’s to hold it in a supportive manner before she knelt before him. “How are you feeling?” she whispered to her twin brother.

You saw, from where you were resting, as Jacob moved his fingers in accordance to Evie’s to respond. “I am just fine, thank you,” Jacob answered, a frail smile appearing upon his broken expression. It was a weak smile, yes, but it was one nonetheless. Out of anybody in the room, his sister seemed to give Jacob the most joy, and you couldn’t help but envy her for that.

Evie smiled her relief at just feeling her brother’s fingers moving to grab her hand. It was indeed nice to see him making progress no matter how small it was. Moving forward, she kissed her brother on the cheek before finding her way to her feet and turning her focus to her nephew. “I will be in tonight, Emmett, if you wanted to take a break for now.”

Emmett nodded to his aunt and motioned to Jacob. “I just bathed him, so he should be fine, minus food, of course. Just needs to eat as does (Y/N) as far as I know.”

“I swear, I feel like a bloomin’ child,” Jacob weakly scoffed as he (as well as you) could easily overhear the conversation.

“Just be grateful you didn’t get a pair of nappies out of this, father,” Emmett lightly teased, holding supportively onto his father’s upper arms.

Jacob groaned at the thought, motioning wearily towards the door. “Get out of here,” he insisted playfully at his son’s words. “Away with you.”

Moving from his father and aunt, he waved to you on his way towards the main doorway. “I’ll be back later tonight—swear!” And with that said, Emmett left the house to be about his own personal business.

With Emmett gone, you tried to relax upon the sofa once more in an attempt to get further rest. Jacob appeared fine, and if Evie and him wanted to spend time together, you certainly weren’t going to interfere with that.

“I am going to get busy in the kitchen,” Evie said kindly to her wounded brother. “Did you need anything from me?”

“Just one thing,” you heard Jacob insist, as you had finally found it within yourself to close your eyes. “Can you wheel me over to (Y/N)’s side?”

Evie was still a bit oblivious to the relationship going on between you two—at least, you could only assume so. If she was as observant as her nephew, she probably wasn’t and just wasn’t speaking about it aloud given the situation her brother was in. “Of course,” she said, and you heard the wheels slowly creak upon their forced movements.

You still hadn’t bothered to open your eyes even when you felt Jacob’s hand upon your head, nestled within your hair. The feel of him touching you again was soothing and welcoming, but you did have to remember the fact you were exhausted and carrying a child, so you allowed rest to embrace you once again.

 

 

When you awoke an hour or so later, you found that Evie had finished cooking for the morning and urged you both to the dining area to eat. It was a quiet dinner, really. Evie handled anything that regarded Jacob, as she felt it was her responsibility, so you got to focus on your food for the time being. Even if Jacob knew it was nearly impossible for him to do some movements at a speedy pace, it didn’t stop him from lightly grumping about the help on his sister’s part.

“You really need to let me feed you, Jacob,” Evie insisted, sounding a bit impatient with her brother as she tried to usher over eggs to him only to have her brother protest at the thought.

“I can manage myself,” he said in a rather dismissive tone.

“You can move the one arm just fine, yes, but ever so slowly as it is still healing,” Evie reminded him. She sighed—lowered the fork she had on the plate before him as he wasn’t allowing her to go further. “You are recovering, brother, and that is all well and good, but you need to take it slowly.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to move my bloody arm as intended?” Jacob scowled, making you look to your lover then and try and catch his attention.

“Jacob,” you began gently, “just let her feed you, for God’s sake. We can work on your arm later today, alright? Then, maybe, you can eat your dinner without help?”

Jacob listened to you closely and thought about the offer. It was then he relented and allowed Evie to do as she needed.

“Thank you,” Evie praised to Jacob finally surrendering to the idea. “I swear, when you become an old man—gray and crotchety as this—I worry for the poor soul who has to deal with you.”

She was joking, of course, but it seemed something in those words made Jacob look at you with concern—as if he worried you may very well rethink your place in his life. The very look broke your heart, and it was there you moved your hand under the table to touch his thigh in a reassuring way.

Jacob’s eyes moved down to the table where your hand was hiding its comforting gesture out of sight of Evie. He would have responded, perhaps, but the hand nearest you was the broken one, so Jacob was unable at the moment.

“Jacob?” Evie called, causing Jacob to hum in response and look to his elder sister. “Are you alright?” Her face wrinkled further in concern as he went so quiet; it seemed she was expecting some sort of sarcastic remark, but none came.

“I am fine,” Jacob horribly lied, as his voice easily gave away the truth.

Evie decided not to press the topic, it seemed, and just went about aiding her brother while you worked on your own breakfast. You were hoping that things would get better with Jacob healing, but it seemed that they merely got uncomfortable at best.

 

 

Dinner followed the same formula. Jacob was a bit temperamental when it came to being fed and the conversation was very dry. You didn’t know much about Evie, as he preferred to keep her such a secret and away from the world when she left for India, so you weren’t even sure what to talk about around her.

With the two of you alone in your bedroom once more, you worked with Jacob on his exercises he had to be doing to keep his arm in shape. It used to be difficult for him to even move his fingers, but now he was doing that with ease including outstretching his arm a good part of the way.

“Let’s see if we can’t get it all the way out,” you whispered in thought, taking your fingers about his and slowly urging him to move the muscles in his arm to attempt and make it rest parallel. You saw him flinch as you got his arm nearly all the way corresponding to his body and came to a steady halt. “Don’t want me to go any further?” you asked with worry.

“It’s fine…keep going…!” Jacob urged as if wanting to ignore the pain rocketing through him.

“I am not going to do this at your expense, you know,” you warned him, moving one of your hands along the muscles in his arms to try and work them into relaxing. “Seems lately all you want to do is rush things.”

Jacob flared his nostrils at your words and let you continue your work.

“And what about your legs?” you asked, moving his arm back down to his chest.

A part of Jacob’s older self seemed to return as he scoffed teasingly at your question. “Believe me, love, those have a bit of life in them yet.”

You weren’t sure what he was referring to, so you went to work on removing his boots first and then undressing him further to check on the muscles that needed tending to. Upon doing so, however, it was there you realized why he was being witty. It wasn’t fully erect, but it was enough so that you could tell his mind had been wandering somewhere as of late. You couldn’t help but shoot him a disapproving look. “A sense of danger gets your cock hard?” you asked teasingly.

“No,” he chuckled with a feeble laugh, “but your hand was dangerously close to it when you were being ‘kind’ at breakfast. The thought just never left me, and I got excited.”

“Well, as great as it is to know that your blood rushes to your dick during inappropriate times, I still need to check the rest of you,” you continued to mock, moving your hands to his feet first to try and get his toes to at least move.

“Ah, what fun is that, love?” Jacob asked, surprised that you would just ignore him in such a time of need.

“Jacob, I cannot have sex with you like this—end of story,” you responded flatly, giving him a judgmental glance. However, that didn’t exactly stop him from pleading with his expression, and you were quick to shake your head. “ ** _No_** …!”

“So you would just leave me to be in pain, (Y/N)?” Jacob asked, drumming his fingers upon his stomach. “It has become quite uncomfortable dealing with it nearly all bleedin’ day.”

You raised your hand to his playful taunt. “I’ll tell you what—if you can get your feet to move, then I’ll consider it.”

Jacob’s eyebrow rose at your words. “Is that a bribe I hear?”

“It’s a promise,” you smirked, knowing he would not be able to accomplish that so soon.

Still, he appeared interested. “Will this bribe stand even if I don’t do it today?”

Again, a sly sneer curved upon your lips as if to dare him to do this in one night. “As long as I am still around, then it will stand—as hard and firm as your own erection.”

He allowed a quick, loud laugh at your comparison on the matter. “Let’s get started, shall we?” Jacob grinned, trying to focus on his left foot for the time being as you were attempting to aid him in the process of healing by wiggling the appendage for him to see if it might stimulate something.

However, as you suspected, Jacob wasn’t able to move much in his feet. You thought for sure that tempting offer you gave him would be enough to do so, but it wasn’t, and Jacob himself even swore at his incompetence.

“Blast! I thought for sure I could manage!” The wounded Assassin covered his face with his one hand irritably.

You began to dress him once more in the process of his mumbling. “Perhaps another time, Jacob,” you said softly, just relieved that he was starting to become like himself again in the past few days. “I should probably go and see if Emmett has returned.” You stood to attention, cradling your elbows as you hummed curiously. It was nearly close to eleven in the evening, and while Evie was fine to prance about Whitechapel at odd hours, Emmett usually came right back to the house after awhile. “He shouldn’t be out this late…it feels unlike him.”

Silence never felt so deafening before. You thought Jacob would reassure you on the matter, as he knew his son better than anybody, but he didn’t. Upon gazing down at the fellow Assassin, you noticed he looked upset—angry, even.

“(Y/N),” Jacob began, his tone firm and almost tangible in its control, “how do you feel about him—my **_son_** , I mean?”

The way he stressed the word ‘son’ made your heart race and you felt your palms become moist. Was he accusing you of something…? He sure made it sound like he was. “Well, I think he’s really nice,” you answered, tugging at your shirt collar as it was starting to make your neck itch and your throat feel restricted. “He has been awfully generous in putting up with me when it comes to my behavior and helping me feel better at night.”

Jacob’s hazel sight found you in that instance, and you felt your blood run cold. “What do you mean by that, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, it-it’s not at **_ALL_** what that sounded like, Jacob,” you quickly responded, hands before you as if to defend yourself against any attack he may offer. “It’s just been hard to talk to Evie, as I don’t know much about her, but Emmett and I just sort of got to know one another when looking for you.”

Jacob’s response was dull, yet anger rattled behind it like a caged wolf waiting for its moment to strike. “I see.” His eyebrow rose once more quizzically. “Anything I should know about?”

You were repulsed by the accusation and jerked your entire body back with your hand going to your chest. “I-what- ** _NO!_** ” Offended he would dare question your loyalty to him, you creased your brow in anger. “Why would you even assume such a thing!” you shouted, fists moving to your sides.

He didn’t answer. Upon your response, Jacob just looked down to the foot of the bed with a sigh heavy enough that you saw his chest rise and fall from its pressure. Closing his eyes tightly, Jacob finally replied, “Never mind. I just need to rest, I think…”

“Alright, well…” You weren’t even sure what to say at that moment. How could Jacob not trust you? “Do you need anything from me before I leave the room for a moment?”

Jacob waved the offer away, and it was there you found yourself reluctantly heading for the door.

“I’ll be back in a moment, Jacob,” you reassured him, departing from the thick atmosphere that was starting to make you sick to your stomach. With the door closed behind you, you sighed heavily with your hand on your chest to still the queasiness in your body. _Maybe a bath might help relax me_ , you thought, dragging yourself down to the washroom.

Moving down the hallway, you grabbed onto the handle of the lavatory’s door and swung it open without thinking—exposing a naked Emmett in the process.

The sight startled you both, but Emmett was so in shock that he hadn’t though to cover himself with the towel he had, as he had been washing prior. His backside was facing you, leaving you to take in the fact that his buttocks were actually sporting freckles just as his face was. Your cheeks were bright red, and you struggled to even let the scream surface from your throat as it was begging to. You were so used to living alone (or with Jacob), you hadn’t thought to knock.

Emmett slowly wrapped the towel about his hips and gave you a curious, wide eyed look. “Can I help you, love?” His tone was calm, though a bit of nervous laughter was obvious upon his words.

“H-How can you be so calm! You’re naked!” It wasn’t a logical thing to say, but your brain probably just shut down at the sight of another man naked.

Emmett jerked his head back as if perplexed by your words before offering a brief smirk at it nonetheless. “Yes, that does tend to happen when one bathes, (Y/N).”

You had nothing to add without it being further awkward, so you quickly raised your hand and excused yourself back outside with your arms outstretched against the bathroom door as if to keep a rabid beast contained. Realizing what happened, you closed your eyes and swallowed harshly with a subtle ‘fuck’ escaping your lips. “God dammit, that was so embarrassing…!”

After that affair, you couldn’t find it within yourself to return to Jacob’s room. Maybe a bath would be ideal after all, but you had to wait for Emmett to be done, so you waited for any sign of that in the kitchen just down the hall. However, when you heard Emmett moving beyond the door, you secretly wished for him to just go to Jacob’s side and leave you in peace for a moment…only to find out that he was eager to seek you out and talk to you about it. Seeing Emmett surface from the hallway, you closed your eyes tightly and damned your rotten luck in the matter.

He grabbed onto the chair across the table from you and leaned forwards curiously. “Mind if I sit, (Y/N)?”

You didn’t respond. Your fingers dug into your hair as you nervously looked off to the side with a nasally huff. All you could think about again and again was that moment where he was nude.

“I’ll stand then,” he chuckled, rocking idly back and forth on his heels. “Forgive me, love. Normally, I don’t take a bath that late in the day, but I found myself in the bloody Thames tonight, and it didn’t exactly do anything jolly for me. Had to wash the grime off.”

“I am sorry as well,” you finally confessed, keep your eyes closed still before finding the courage to look at him with one open. “I’m hardly used to company here, and if there was company, well…it was Jacob.”

Emmett smirked as his gloved fingers drummed on the chair’s wooden headrest. “Hard to be embarrassed seeing a bloke nude if you’re bonking him—I understand.”

“You are oddly relaxed talking about your dad’s sex life,” you pointed out, glad that it was so dark your blush couldn’t be seen.

Emmett shrugged and twisted his mouth to the side slightly. “I just want him happy, (Y/N), so that’s why I am indifferent in a lot of things he says and does.”

Inwardly you smiled at that but couldn’t help but worry about their relationship. Jacob appeared so threatened by Emmett’s presence while Emmett just wanted Jacob happy and well. A part of you wished that Jacob could see his son wasn’t a threat by any means…

“Anyways,” began Emmett, breaking the silence, “if you wanted to wash, the lavatory is all yours, love. I’ll go and check on my father.”

You weren’t sure if that would be a good idea, but you couldn’t exactly explain why it would be. As he turned to leave, you chuckled to yourself all the same. “I’ve never seen a rump quite that spotted unless it was a dappled stallion,” you teased playfully in regards to the freckles you saw, making Emmett freeze in his tracks.

He wasn’t embarrassed by your words. If anything, he emitted a sort of cockiness to the compliment. “You should have seen the front—then the term ‘stallion’ would have been accurate.”

Covering your head with your arms as your face met the table, you tried to keep your laugh quiet. “Eeeyup…just like your father,” you jeered, folding your arms upon the table top to give your chin something to rest upon, a small chuckle pushing past your lips.

“Ah, I had to get it somewhere, love.” He was about to leave, but he stopped himself and pointed to you. “By the by, (Y/N), I know you were listening in earlier today, so I don’t need to say much, but the Council is going to want to see us within a month. That’s how long they are giving my father to heal up a bit more, so he can attend this hearing in regards to you and the baby and myself.” And with that said, Emmett tipped his top hat ever so slightly to you before heading back down the darkened hallway to make it to your bedroom where Jacob slept.

 

\--

 

You could only hope Jacob would be well enough to really attend this hearing that the British Brotherhood wished to assemble in regards to your unplanned pregnancy and ‘Emmett’s negligence’ as they called it in the response letter. Within a week, Jacob was finally able to move his other hand and arm bit by bit to where he was able to feed himself with ease as well as wash his own hair and body if he desired. For awhile, he had difficulty with his legs, and you were beginning to wonder if they would ever heal until the muscles and nerves finally became responsive in full to his needs, and Jacob was slowly moving his legs once more.

“It’s progress,” you said with relief, allowing Jacob to move his left leg up to where his calf was touching the back part of this thigh and then lower it slowly back down again. “Soon you’ll be able to walk once more.”

“Brilliant,” Jacob grunted as he worked on relaxing his leg. “Then I can have the Council threatening to chop off my legs after the whole bloody mess with Jack.”

“Don’t say that, Jacob,” you pleaded, turning to him to try and ease the worry from his head as you stroked his oily hair. “You cannot dictate how a person will respond when exposed to certain things. None of that was your fault…”

He looked at you with the one eye that still worked and thanked you mutely in his expression alone for the consolation. While the other eye was not gone, Jacob couldn’t use it as he used to, and so, he kept a black piece of fabric wrapped about his head and over the eye to hide the damages done to it. Jacob opened his mouth to speak, though seeming to struggle for the right word to start off for a moment as he hesitated. “I believe you promised to blow me if I was able to get my legs working again, (Y/N).”

A brief yet high pitched laugh erupted from your lips no thanks to surprise in his words. “Is that where your mind has been all this time?”

“You swore you’d keep that promise, love,” Jacob reminded you urgently, moving his hand to usher your face to his. “I believe that I should be allowed that much with all things considered.”

With him trying to usher your face closer to his, you sighed at his impossible behavior. “You cannot move too much, Jacob. You’re going to have to remain still,” you reminded him, your words teasing his lips.

“I only need my hands, lips, and cock to move, love—not much else needs working in this,” he smirked, moving his lips to catch yours with a muffled moan at just being able to find a reason to kiss you.

The kiss lingered. Jacob didn’t exactly deepen it, and you didn’t entice the thought, but you gladly let your lips have a teasing taste of what you had gone months without. “Good to know that’s all that is needed for this,” you started off with a teasing smile, “otherwise, adding that brain of yours into the mix might make things a bit deadly.”

“Very funny,” Jacob sneered, maneuvering his hands about your top to try and be rid of it. “Now, get undressed and let me have my way with you.”

He was teasing, but you couldn’t help but pull away from his touch at that request to mock him in return—your slightly unbuttoned blouse he had gotten a hold of exposing only the upper range of your breasts. “You’re in no position to order me around, Jacob Frye,” you reminded him, slowly undoing the other buttons of your shirt to let it hang open loosely by the end of your adventure.

When he saw what you were up to, Jacob merely shrugged as he worked on his own pants to let his growing arousal go free. “That is fine. I just need my hands to work on myself, love.”

You watched as he retaliated in his own way. Jacob’s hand moved from the base to the tip in a slow and steady fashion to excite the organ all the more with his administrations. His breathing was steady at first but growing heavier by the moment, as he focused on his arousal just to spite you, making you come over to nearly straddle his stomach after having removed most of your clothing. “You’re such an asshole.

He knew you were joking with him, prompting a sly smirk to hook upon his lips as his hands found their way across your hips and to your buttocks to squeeze you there. “Use your gob for something else, (Y/N),” Jacob hissed in excitement as he could hardly use his hips to move upward to excite the notion. “I believe you promised to suck me should I reach this goal, and I am done waiting.”

You did promise, and it was obvious in the times that had gone by that Jacob was eager for some sexual attention. Moving your legs about, you positioned your exposed womanhood above his own mouth while turning your focus to his erection. “Then you use your mouth for something else in return,” you urged, stroking the sensitive, lubricated skin ever so slowly.

“Gladly,” he commented hoarsely, grabbing onto the bend in your thighs to urge your entrance closer to his lips, where you felt the roughness of his beard tease your skin and the flat, moist and warm touch of his tongue slowly slide across the soiled pedals of your womanhood to excite a cry of delight from you.

You couldn’t allow him to have all the fun in it, and so you turned your focus back to him and took the head of his engorged cock into your mouth—moving it slowly in an up and down fashion before having the urgency to push it into your throat.

Your fingers curled upon the covers as your moans were now muffled and concealed against the manhood you teased. Jacob was becoming rougher in return, as one hand moved to pinch and tap against your swollen clit while his tongue dug deeper within your body to try and excite you further.

The added sensation made your eyes widen and your heart race as you eagerly continued your proceedings upon him, your saliva dripping and coating his length in the process. However, as you did so, you felt a taste of his pre-cum tease your throat as your own tempting release also whet Jacob’s appetite for more. You felt his hand move to the back of your head then and urge you to try and deep throat him as his fingers eagerly worked away at you still.

“Swallow it, (Y/N)…!” Jacob demanded breathlessly, his thighs tensing in mounting excitement upon feeling his entire shaft buried within your throat and your nose teasing his balls given the position you were in.

Not like you could argue the thought. He had a firm hold on you, and your nostrils flared in excitement as your body quivered from your own orgasm at him constantly stimulating your clit. Seemed Jacob didn’t need much coaxing to return the favor, as the hot, milky release eagerly shot within your throat—nearly gagging you at the placement—causing you to eagerly throw your head back with parts of his cum dribbling from the corners of your mouth as you cried out in a sharp inhale.

“F-Fuck…!” you swore, panting and attempting to catch your breath as Jacob’s hands continued to be ‘personal’ with you as they stroked and teased your thighs. “You…you really need to be careful; you nearly caused me to vomit.”

“Mm, sounds lovely,” he joked, moving a caring hand to your belly all the same. “Do you feel alright?”

Hearing the concern for you, you slowly moved off of his face and around to where you could lie beside him, cradling his head to urge him into looking upon you. “I feel just fine, Jacob,” you whispered, still struggling to catch your breath. “How about you?”

Jacob stalled on the answer for one reason or another. His smile was brief, but you did catch it etch at the corners of his mouth regardless, and it gave you some satisfaction. “I am getting there,” he replied in a whisper.


	6. A Volatile Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe/possibly the finale of The Fall series where the reader prepares to have Jacob’s baby as things between Jacob and Emmett intensify.
> 
> The baby's gender was voted for on my blog, so it was not chosen by me. c:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

The train ride outside of London and to where the British Council usually remained in Brighton was a slow and uncomfortable one. Being in the last trimester of your pregnancy, your corset was nearly impossible for Evie to even aid you in getting on, and she almost refused the thought; however, to be out in public without one (even for a private meeting) was considered unladylike, and you urged her into continuing with the laces. Jacob could tell you were struggling to be still and even breathe properly from where he sat beside you, making him raise his brow with concern over the situation.

“You really shouldn’t be going to this meeting, (Y/N),” he sighed, his hands overlapped over the cane-sword he was using as a means to get around lately. Jacob was healed enough to be able to limp about by this point, but he still had difficulty standing on his right leg, so he went to utilizing his cane-sword as an actual walking cane now and again to try and not allow the muscles to become too stiff from lack of use. “You should be at home about now without worry of that corset nearly squeezing you and the baby to damn near death.”

“I will be fine,” you lied with a heavy sigh. Even with the corset being a mandatory fashion statement for women, and with it being the last trimester anyways, you knew it was going to mean a lot of staying at home and rarely moving beyond the front door for the next few weeks. If Jacob himself wasn’t still healing, you shook at the thought of being alone without the man who fathered your child. “Besides, I guess the Council wants to make sure it isn’t some lie that I am pregnant as this.”

“For good reason, I suppose,” Emmett chimed in, fondling with the rim of his hat he kept between his legs. “Especially with the Jack incident, we have not many British Assassins left.” He hated bringing that thought up, as he saw his own father even flinch at the words, which escaped him, but it was truthful. The Assassins Jacob brought in to train all but died at the hands of Jack the Lad, it seemed, and everything went back to square one. “I am sure they are going to yell at us for that bit.”

“They can hold onto the fact this child will be one,” Jacob grumbled in response to Emmett’s prediction.

“Do you think they’ll let you even train it, Jacob?” Evie asked from where she sat across from her brother.

Jacob’s nostrils flared at the challenging question, his gloved hands tightening upon the decorative head of his cane-sword he held. “If they would refuse me the right to train my own child, they better have a bloody good reason for it given all we’ve planned out so far,” he hissed with a low and aggressive tone.

Evie had been told in private about Jacob’s relationship with his student, and it was in that moment, she began to worry for both her brother and you. If any of it came to the Council’s senses, they would punish Jacob heavily for his irresponsible and negligent behavior. In the end, Evie had no answer to Jacob’s response, prompting her to recline back with her hands folded tightly in anticipation within her lap as the ride continued, her body slightly swaying as the train wobbled on the tracks.

“Only thing they could do is see to it that either myself or Evie does so,” Emmett chimed in, thumbing next to himself where Evie sat. “Since (Y/N) isn’t a Master Assassin, it won’t land in her hands.”

“They won’t allow you to, Emmett,” Jacob snapped, as if feeling challenged by that thought, prompting you to look over at the elder Assassin with a confused look. “If you’re volunteering the information that you’re the father to this baby, they will see to it that you don’t implant further problems within the Brotherhood—starting with ‘your’ baby.”

Emmett could obviously hear the aggression in his father’s tone and quickly bowed his head and raised a hand to still the anger from reaching a boiling point. “Calm yourself, father,” he instructed, looking at Jacob in a stern manner. “It was merely a thought.”

Releasing a small, nasally sigh at the obvious tension in the train cart, you turned your sights beyond the window nearby to watch the scenery, wishing the location of the Council would be upon you soon.

 

 

The City of Brighton was where the train came to a halt, prompting Evie and Emmett to take their leave before Evie aided her brother in getting to his feet and Emmett helping you do the same with an offer of his hand.

“Feeling alright, love?” Emmett asked, raising his brow ever so slightly to the question as he had noticed you were no doubt looking a bit ill with the restriction upon your body.

Hesitantly, you nodded, giving away the truth. “Just feel a bit faint and all that,” you whispered, hand to your head as the sea breeze and smog from the train you could smell in unison were hardly doing your situation much favors either.

“Lean on me then, (Y/N),” Emmett encouraged, offering his hand to you.

You were hesitant in the thought of taking it…Jacob had been acting a bit bullheaded lately when it came to Emmett being around you. Even with the facade being just that, Jacob still bled his jealousy over the thought in the matter, even with his son being so supportive and helpful.

Perhaps Emmett could understand why you hesitated, but that didn’t stop the Assassin from grabbing your hand tightly and urging you onward, positioning your hand in the nook of his bent arm. “We’re supposed to be a couple in this, remember?” he whispered to you, moving beyond the train and closer to a nearby bench where Jacob and Evie were waiting. “We have to act the part, or the Council will see right through us—they are all Master Assassins, you know.”

“I guess London should take hope in that,” you admitted quietly in return, curling your fingers about Emmett’s arm, “…that London is full of nothing but Master Assassins, at the very least.”

“Minus one,” Emmett corrected with a sideways grin to you.

Seeing Jacob leaning on his cane-sword to remain upright, you smiled in greeting to him before moving your hand over to his left wrist to hold onto it supportively. “Are you feeling alright?”

Jacob managed a smile, moving one of his hands to yours to let you know he was fine. “Don’t worry about me, (Y/N),” he insisted in a quiet voice. “It is you I am more concerned about.”

“I will be alright,” you said in return, removing your hand reluctantly from his touch. “The sooner we get this over with the better, I say.”

Evie moved between the two of you then and motioned to her brother first and foremost. “Remember to keep your connection to merely apprentice and teacher; nothing more,” Evie instructed seriously, looking between you both. “The last thing we need is the Council threatening to demote or banish Jacob for his involvement with a student.”

The thought was heartbreaking enough, so you quickly nodded before following behind Evie and Jacob as they made their way deeper into the City of Brighton, departing from the train station’s loud sounds and unwelcoming smells.

The city wasn’t nearly as busy and deafening as London, but it was still a quaint little place nonetheless. The buildings weren’t as massive in scale either, though there were a few landmarks you couldn’t help but take in with interest. “So, why Brighton?” you questioned to anybody who might have an answer. “London seems like it would have been far more ideal for the Council.”

“London was in the Templar’s hold for many years,” Jacob answered, limping forwards with the aid of his decorative cane. “For roughly a hundred or so…and the Council, some time ago or before…” Jacob paused, rubbing his forehead, as the information was loose in his mind, it seemed. “…Well, the Council thought it brilliant to do as the French Brotherhood did and try to live underground out of sight. Some of the tunnels were already freshly prepared, so they had little to worry about in terms of setting up their headquarters in the beginning, but the Templars found them somehow and chased them from their sanctuary.”

“So they escaped?” you asked, worried what had happened sometime ago.

Jacob shrugged his brow, sucking in his lower lip. “Some did and their relations comprise of the Council today, but it was a horrid massacre, really. The Templars would not show mercy to them and even tried to poison the very air they breathed to ‘smoke out the rest’, so to say.”

“And what happened to the tunnel?”

“A majority of the tunnel was turned into the underground railway system you know of that connects from Paddington to Farringdon once it was found by common folk,” concluded Jacob with a steady breath as he wasn’t used to putting so much energy onto one leg when walking as much as he was. Evie moved to check in on him, and Jacob was quick to raise his hand to her worry. “After that, what remained of the Council escaped to Brighton as they felt the distance was safe enough away from Templars and to where they could keep their eyes and ears in on London when able. Besides, they also had my father, Ethan, near about London with George Westhouse and Henry Green. Afterward, Evie and I took to London against the Council’s orders as well as George’s, and we remained there for sometime till Evie took her leave to India with Henry.”

It was quite the story to ingest as you remained close to Emmett, walking through the busy streets of Brighton to this secret location of the British Brotherhood. “So it was all on you for a time, I suppose?” you questioned in regards to Jacob trying to uphold London’s peace.

“Hardly,” Emmett laughed, lightly squeezing your hand within the nook of his arm to get you to look to him. “I am not invisible, love. I did help my father since I was a young lad.” Here, he motioned to Evie. “I was merely in India for a time helping my aunt. I would have returned.”

“Would you?” Jacob asked. His tone was lighthearted at the thought and not as assertive as you worried it would be. “You are impossible when it comes to sitting still, son. If the Council asked you to go across the seas to America, you’d do so, it seems.”

“Hmm, wonder where he got that habit from?” Evie lightly jabbed in a vague regards to her brother also being restless in his younger years.

Jacob merely shook his head and rolled his eye to her playful response as Emmett laughed with his aunt on his side.

As the conversation, thankfully, remained pleasant and civil, you found yourself being escorted to the back of a few buildings where it appeared all that would greet you was a dead end comprised of bricks and the overwhelming shadows that cast down upon you all from the two handmade structures, which nearly closed you in. Evie’s gloved hand went to the surrounding walls, searching for something until she came upon the loose brick she had been hunting for. Digging her fingers into the loosened corners, she pulled it back to expose a hallowed out indentation of the Assassin’s symbol.

“Assassins sure do enjoy hiding in the shadows a lot more than I realized,” you admitted quietly in the darkened alleyway you had found yourself within.

“For good reason, (Y/N),” Evie commented, her tone heavy with thought as she fondled her pockets for something. “Besides, wouldn’t you after hundreds of your own men got murdered?”

The Master Assassin was being facetious, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad to the remark all the same.

It was then Evie found what it was she was searching for: a circular emblem that was cut with the Assassin’s symbol in the middle. It was the perfect shape for the notch you could just see there in the wall. Upon the item connecting with the indention, hidden gears behind the structure began to grind together before the wall at the end of the alleyway began to slowly pull back (much to your surprise) and expose a hidden passageway on the other side.

“So it still works—brilliant,” Emmett commented with gentle sarcasm.

“Never been to see the Council, I am to assume?” you asked, turning to the younger Assassin in the group.

Emmett scoffed at the thought, wrinkling his brow to you as the both of you began to venture forward. “Never been a reason to beyond getting my glove and Master Assassin outfit. I was always a ‘good lad’.” He was teasing in his words as he was the first to venture towards the exposed doorway with you still holding onto his arm. “Of course that is, until now, apparently.”

“Yes, you were such an ‘angel’ from birth,” Jacob jabbed, moving up from behind, as Evie took to the rear.

The corridor was a lengthy one, lit by a few lamps hanging on either side of the old hallway. The entrance was a bit tight in the beginning and then expanded out the further on everyone went. A part of you was nervous as to what could possibly be at the end of the hallway…would the Council be understanding in the matter or would they tear apart the Frye’s and their inappropriate behaviors? You only had the chance to meet them once, and that was upon your initiation sometime ago when they gave you your gauntlet.

“If I recall properly, Evie told me a few interesting stories about you, father,” Emmett chuckled, turning to look over his shoulder at Jacob (causing you to do the same out of reflex, as you never got to know Jacob when he was younger).

Jacob shot his sister an accusing glare at the adventures she probably spared his son before looking back to you and Emmett quickly. “I was young and bloody reckless—not something you should be taking to heart and or learning from, Emmett,” Jacob hissed as a warning.

“I would say your own son is God’s way of bestowing revenge upon you from all the chaos you unleashed onto others, Jacob,” Evie remarked lightheartedly as she aided her brother down the stairs, which soon came into view.

“Apparently someone has to give Jacob a hard time now and again,” you commented with a soft, knowing smile to Jacob to let him know you were still thinking of him all the same.

It was enough of a look to bring a sort of calm to the older Assassin as he made it out to the lavishly furnished circular room with the rest of you. You felt awful not being able to comfort him as you wished you could, but you knew the eyes of the Council would be upon you both soon, and you couldn’t afford to make one false move to incriminate Jacob.

“So we’re here,” Evie murmured quietly, looking about the parlor room. It had a very decorative carpet woven with golds, browns, and reds of many hues, circular in formation and even tasseled at the ends. Candelabras made of silver were stationed apart from one another perfectly in the circular room and, oddly enough, there were no windows that you could see to grant further light. The walls were partially decorated from the center up in wallpaper colored in maroon with decorative designs while the lower half was made of fine mahogany wood. You noticed a fireplace not far away and on either side were partial staircases heading upward to, what looked like a balcony of some sort to overlook the room.

“So the Council will meet us here?” you asked, not aware your hold onto Emmett had tightened till his hand found your own as he squeezed you there reassuringly.

“Supposedly,” answered Jacob as he limped forwards then, his cane tapping upon the parts of the floor crafted in wood and not covered by the intricately woven carpet.

Emmett gazed over at the few chairs and even a loveseat that were pushed near the back walls for Assassins to sit down should they need to. Turning to you then, he rubbed the back of your hand to encourage your attention to him. “Did you need to lie down for a bit, (Y/N)?”

You were still struggling to even move about properly with the corset so tightly into place upon your pregnant form, and you nodded at the thought quite eagerly. “I would love that, really,” you responded, allowing Emmett to escort you to the loveseat where you found great relief in lying upon your side for the time being.

As Jacob and Evie remained standing near the center of the room, Jacob hissed angrily with a shake of his head. “They summon us here and the bloody Council cannot even afford to be here on time!” he growled, motioning towards where you were trying to rest for a moment as Emmett knelt beside the loveseat to give you room. “(Y/N) shouldn’t be out like this! She should be at home resting!”

“Apologies for your wait, Sir Jacob Frye,” came a woman’s voice from above the fireplace where the decorative banisters supported the interior balcony overlooking the parlor room.

Your eyes drifted to the woman speaking in a sort of false apologetic manner. Her hair was a mixture of blond and silver, braided back almost similar in style to Evie’s choice of stylization. She adorned a rather proud symbol of the Creed upon her chest where it seemed her trench coat connected upon the clip. Her clothing was dark in color to aid in her blending in as needed though the fabric underneath her coat was of velvet red, which glistened whenever the light caught sight of it.

“Florence Wright,” Evie responded, bowing slightly in respects to the fellow Master Assassin. “It is good to see you again.”

Florence pursed her lips at the greeting before making her way slowly down the nearby carpeted steps to meet with everyone as intended on the lower floor. “Indeed, Dame Evie Frye,” she began, showing her unenthusiastic thought on the matter, standing before the twins in time with her hands clasped tightly before her. “I wish I could say the feeling is mutual, but with all things considered, I am unable.”

You could see Jacob was struggling with himself to be civil for a moment, but he merely bowed in return. “Florence, where are the others? We really must get this meeting going.”

Her blue eyes aged by time shifted to you then and you felt your stomach knot at the criticizing glare this woman was giving you. Emmett had turned to her then as well, removing his top hat and placing it upon his chest as a means for respect, though he remained beside you regardless of the woman coming closer to where you were lying down. Her look was harsh and unforgiving…like that of a mistress who was nearly ready to strike you for doing wrong, though the venomous and scrutinizing glance was shared between you and Emmett.

“How far along is she?” Florence asked, turning to Emmett, acting as though you were unable to speak on your own behalf.

Emmett rose to his feet, keeping his hat near his chest respectfully still. “Eight months, Miss. Florence.”

She shot a rather appalled look to Emmett, making the man stand firm. “And this was brought to our attention how long ago?” Florence asked, turning from Emmett to Jacob.

Jacob nasally sighed at the words, the leather of his gloves stretching as he tried to find courage to respond to that question, though apparently lacking.

“I-I…it was my fault, Miss. Florence,” you reluctantly spoke up, watching that condescending look find you once more. You flinched, though did your best to continue regardless of the eyes upon you at that moment. “I didn’t realize I was pregnant till about two or so months in…”

“And yet Jacob Frye should have been notified, or at least, Emmett,” Florence reminded you sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Emmett was in India at the time,” you answered quickly, speaking the truth in such a matter without thinking. “With Jacob, I…I didn’t want to tell him, because I wanted to help him fight Jack.”

Florence scoffed angrily at your choice of words, turning to look at Jacob and Evie—Jacob especially. “Your irresponsible, brash behavior and inability to pay attention to even the slightest details is showing here in this reckless student, Sir Frye!” Florence chastised, pointing at Jacob angrily.

“She still stands, does she not, Miss. Florence?” Jacob snapped back, causing Evie to gently retaliate at her brother by lightly knocking the back of her hand against his chest to calm him. “Also, I believe that child is still very much growing inside of her, so you have nothing to be bloody cross about!”

“Jacob!” Evie hissed as a warning to her rattled brother.

“Belligerent, fool!” Florence hissed like an angry school teacher, her hands clasped furiously behind her back as if to calm herself from acting out further.

“Calm yourself, Florence,” bellowed a deeper voice from up the interior balcony. Another Assassin had appeared with two others beside him—all male—and you knew them by name given your last meeting with them. His name was Charles Riddington, and he appeared to be roughly the same age as Florence (possibly in his mid to early 50s) with hair slicked back and out of his way with glasses to occupy his aged face. His hair and beard were completely gray and not a single strand was left to indicate what color his hair might have been once upon a time. While his hood was down, the other two remained obscured by theirs in place, making it hard for you to say how they appeared as you never had the chance to see them the last time you visited the Council.

Florence stilled her tongue, turning to the new faces in the room with her gloved hands clenched tightly to her sides.

“There is no need to raise such a heated debate here,” the Assassin continued, motioning to those in the room. “I know the journey has been a long one, but if you all wouldn’t mind walking this way and into our meeting room, we can begin there.”

And with that said, the Assassins upon the balcony took their leave behind the red, decorative drapes covering the only other means to leave the parlor room.

Florence trailed behind the fellow Council members with great yet graceful urgency in the matter, leaving Jacob, Evie, Emmett, and yourself to look at one another with expressions that held worry over anything. “Ready to go?” Emmett asked, turning to you as he offered you his hand to aid you in returning to your feet slowly.

“This feels like it’s going to be a nightmare,” you sighed, leaning upon Emmett as you needed to. “I’ve never had them look upon me like that before…”

“Like I said: the British Assassins are dwindling in numbers, love,” Emmett explaining, helping you towards Jacob and Evie and then up the nearby curved staircase. “Any chance they can bring one into their ranks, especially by birth, is exceptional, and they will punish any Assassin that dares act reckless in that regard.”

“Lovely,” you sighed, doing your best to move up the staircase with your corset nearly restricting every movement you made.

Emmett moved in closer to you at that moment to where his breath was teasing your ear. “One more thing, (Y/N)…don’t tell them I was in India again. They will find out I was in India for far too long to have sired your child, and they will look right to my father in the matter should that be exposed given his actions lately…” Emmett was quiet for a moment, his tongue rolling over his lower lip in idle thought before whispering to you a bit more. “Also, keep your emotions in check best you can. These Assassins are going to tear apart my father and me and, possibly, you, but do not let it get the better of you with your condition you’re in.”

You never felt so nervous before in your life. This was all going to be one huge lie to try and feed the Council, and you worried how it would turn out. In the situation, Florence appeared angry at the thought Jacob would let something slip under his nose while Charles and the other two Assassins, Terrance Woodside and Lawrence Skinner, didn’t seem to care much in the matter…at least not yet, anyways. You could only hope it would remain so.

The meeting hall was the last room at the end of the corridor you found yourself traveling down within. It was a simple square room with a few bookshelves, a globe, a few burning candles to light the room, and a table big enough for everyone to have a place to sit at least. You were relieved. You’d give anything to be off your feet for a moment more given how heavy your own body felt with the baby so grown within you.

Emmett took to the nearest chair he was able to get his hands on and pulled the seat out for you before aiding you to sit. “Easy now, love,” he breathed quietly, making sure you were comfortable before joining in the empty space beside you.

You breathed out slowly upon finding yourself off of your feet once more, smiling your thanks to Emmett before turning to Jacob and Evie, watching as they too took their seats with Jacob sitting beside you and Evie on the other side of her brother. Jacob wouldn’t even look at you for some reason…he appeared agitated and distressed, but you couldn’t blame him given the severity of the situation.

Charles took to a few papers that had some notes scribbled upon them, lining them up in order with a simple fix of his glasses. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” he asked, his brown eyes looking out at those present in the room. “Emmett Frye, you were asked to appear before the British Brotherhood Council because of your negligence in regards to debilitating another Assassin by pregnancy and, from what I am seeing here, you and (Y/N) are not married to even allow this sort of act to transpire.” Charles paused then, looking over the rim of his glasses with a raise of his brow. “Do you confirm or deny this?”

Emmett raised a single brow, folding his hands before him upon the table. “I confirm.”

Charles’ eyes remained affixed upon the young Assassin. “Do you care to explain to us how this happened?”

Emmett smirked, eyes lidded in a bit of playfulness. “Well, I could…but I thought we all knew where babies came from and how they were made.”

“Emmett!” Jacob hissed disapprovingly, prompting his son to look at him as though he had done nothing wrong.

Charles and the rest of the Council hardly appeared amused by Emmett’s joking words though Charles remained business composed and unfaltering—hardly showing anger in the young man’s decision to be so straightforward. “Emmett Frye, do you understand the consequences of debilitating a fellow Assassin in this manner when you are not married?” Charles probed, his fingers intertwined upon his papers he lowered to the table as he continued to stare Emmett down sternly.

“I do, sir,” Emmett responded a bit more professionally, rubbing his thumbs together. “I will not be allowed to be apart of its training should it desire to follow the Creed.”

“Also, you both surrender all parental rights to the child, allowing the Council more involvement in its rearing and decisions in its future,” Charles went onward to explain, his eyes looking back upon the papers he had before him to hunt for the next matter of business.

Hearing such a thing, you felt your heart sink as you looked from Emmett (who was too busy focusing on the Council) to Jacob. Jacob was quick to acknowledge your worried glance, to which he mutely encouraged your calmness in the matter with a simple raise of his hand to your silent concern. Honestly, you couldn’t help but be worried. You were going to give birth to this child only to have the Council take it away in the end anyways?

“What about me?” Jacob asked, halting Charles from speaking up on the next matter.

The Master Assassin removed his glasses slowly to gaze upon the curious man with a flare of his nostrils. “What about you, Sir Jacob Frye?”

“It is my grandchild.” You could tell it was awkward for Jacob having to say that, but he still did his best to put on the facade that he was indeed just the grandparent and teacher and nothing else. “I should maintain the right to train it at the very least if you desire for it to be an Assassin.”

You heard Lawrence laugh, his arms crossed over his chest in an off putting manner. “Jacob Frye has hardly shown in his training to other Assassins that this task should befall him, Charles.”

Jacob clenched his fists upon the table at Lawrence’s response on the matter, narrowing his eyes and thinning his lips at the words that challenged him. He didn’t ask for proof…because he knew the proof would be coming.

“I agree with Lawrence,” Florence spoke up bitterly, motioning just down the table where Jacob sat. “Several women trained under his care only to be assassinated by Jack, who was **_also_** trained by Jacob. Not to mention, we have his horribly disciplined son, Emmett, who coerced (Y/N) into sexual acts prompting her to foolishly get pregnant!”

Emmett jerked his head back at the allegation, growling at Florence’s choice of words. “Now, see here—!”

“I was not coerced!” you yelled in retaliation, only to have Jacob quickly overshadow your quaking voice.

“I object to this damn madness!” Jacob roared, his fist slamming upon the table, causing the trinkets upon it to slightly shake under the force. “My ability to teach an Assassin shouldn’t be based on such rubbish as whether or not they are going to bonk each other in private or go bloody mad with the strength and knowledge they obtain through my teaching!” The room was quiet for a moment as Jacob worked on speaking his peace on the matter, his index finger jabbing at the ornate linen lining the wooden table. “The women I trained to be Assassins were strong women that did their best for London and even tried to keep Jack at bay in my absence when (Y/N) was found to be pregnant! Jack had more abilities than the women under my control at the time all because he was overseen by our brothers in India for a time unlike the female Assassins I brought into our ranks, so of course he was going to be stronger—he had further knowledge than they did! To let my shortcomings be the premise of this conversation when I did good by those fallen Assassins is absolute shite, and **_I will not be silent about it!_** ”

“Indeed, but it took our noticing Jack’s inability to listen to you and his instability in his course of actions that we removed him from the Brotherhood while you remained blind to it, Jacob!” Terrance added, motioning angrily at Jacob. “I swear, it wouldn’t surprise me if you were the one who got your student pregnant given what rubbish choices you’ve made lately!”

Jacob reclined back, staring down Terrance with a narrow of his eye. “What part of that fantasy turns you on the most, old man…?” Jacob muttered under his breath angrily, but it was only loud enough for you and, apparently, Evie to hear as she shushed him and lightly nudged his side with her hand.

“Quiet, all of you!” Charles ordered, his voice bellowing loudly and carrying about the small room to where it would silence the risen words that were about to continue from both sides of the argument. There was silence, just as he demanded, causing Charles to remain in thought for a moment before turning to Evie then. “Dame Evie Frye—.”

You watched as Evie sat to attention, almost nervous as to what may come her way in the matter, it seemed.

Charles continued to fondle with his glasses he had yet to place back upon the slope of his nose, though his old eyes found her across the table without hesitation. “You have not led us astray yet, so I will ask you this question…”

“Yes, sir?” Evie probed, her hands gripping onto one another nervously.

The Master Assassin was quiet as if to think on the right words to use as he rested his chin upon the back of his hand before motioning towards Jacob. “If I allow your brother to train this child, will you move back to London and oversee its training as well?”

The room became filled with groans from the fellow Council members. “Charles, really!” Florence hissed angrily. “Be reasonable in this!”

The Assassin raised his hand quickly to quiet Florence, not diverting his attention from Evie.

“Yes, sir,” Evie answered without hesitation, showing that she had been thinking the idea over for sometime now and considered the thought given how her brother had been fairing lately.

Jacob bowed his head at the verdict of that with much relief. Even if it was a bit difficult to see, you did notice he moved his hand to his sister’s to hold it tightly as a silent ‘thank you’.

“And what about me?” Emmett asked, trying to still act the part of a doting father-to-be. “Am I not allowed any say in it?”

Charles slowly inhaled and released the heavy breath shortly after in a thoughtful sigh, sliding his glasses back into place finally upon the slope of his nose as he looked over the few sheets of paper before him once more, shifting through them to find the right answer to the question, it seemed. “Emmett Frye, the child will remain back under your tutelage when he or she reaches their fifteenth year. Until then, you are allowed to father it as you wish, but you will have minimal involvement in its Assassin heritage and teachings till then; that job will land mostly on Jacob and Evie Frye with our guidance.”

“And me…?” you reluctantly asked.

“The same principles apply to you, (Y/N),” Charles answered simply, looking to the faces in the room then and there. “Are we all clear on the matters addressed here?”

It was a unison ‘yes, sir’ that was muttered in the small meeting room. Most of the words were grumbled by the Council, and they seemed equally heavy coming from you, Jacob, and Emmett as Evie remained neutral to it all.

“Emmett Frye, you will be sending the Council a letter notifying us of when the child is born the day it happens and not a moment later,” Charles instructed, doing away with his list of rules. “Do I make myself clear on this matter?”

Sucking in his lower lip, Emmett wrinkled his brow at the order. “Of course.”

“Should you fail in doing so, your child will be stripped from you both,” the Master Assassin warned sternly. “With that said, I retire this meeting. Thank you all for attending,” grunted the older Assassin as he took to his feet then with the other Council members following.

Emmett took to his feet quickly then before offering his hand to you, helping you rise from the chair you were sitting upon. You flinched at having to stand once more, hand to your swollen stomach as you felt the child aggressively move then against the corset, which was apparently bothering it. “Are you alright?” Emmett asked, noticing your actions.

“Yes,” you breathed out slowly. “The baby has just been restless since we departed London…it’s been kicking me all day.”

“Probably not all excited over the restrictions on it, love,” Emmett chuckled, escorting you down the hall with Evie and Jacob.

“Let’s head back home,” Jacob insisted to everyone, holding onto your upper shoulder supportively. “As soon as we get back, we’re getting you out of that bloody thing, and you are going to take it easy.”

The thought of such things were tantalizing, really, and you used those thoughts as encouragement to get back to the train station (regardless of how difficult it was to move about in the clothing you wore) and head back home.

 

\--

 

While the clothing was still a bit restricting, it was divine to not have to worry about the corset for the coming days after the meeting with the Council went over as it had. All the same, you couldn’t help but be worried what future this child would have under the order of the British Brotherhood.

Sitting on your bed, you idly moved your hands over your stomach, feeling the child still move on occasion against your touch. It was as soothing as it was alien…it was so different feeling something moving within you. As you let the unborn child keep you company, you heard a knock at the door depart you from your thoughts. “Come in,” you called softly, prompting the door to open and Jacob to appear before you.

He was still limping a bit, but now and again, he would remove the cane-sword as an aid to try and walk on his own. Jacob made his way over to the bed you were sitting upon to join you, taking your nearest hand within his own before kissing you without much warning.

Eyes widening at the sudden kiss, you relaxed as you focused on the sweet taste of his warm breath and the teasing sensation his beard brought upon your skin. He seemed to be quite thirsty for the thought of intimacy ever since your return from Brighton, as it had been hard to find time for it with him still healing a bit and you pregnant. When Jacob slowly departed from the kiss, he moved his lips to your forehead where he teased upon the spot gently, his breath teasing your face in the process. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked, his hand stroking your stomach.

You flinched slightly as the baby acted out against the touch of its father. “I think I’ll feel better once this rambunctious child is born,” you teased, holding onto his hand, which was resting against your belly.

“Is it being rowdy now?” Jacob asked with a small tenor of a laugh on his words.

“Been doing nothing lately but moving about and kicking me, it seems,” you answered with a shake of your head. Thinking back on the Council’s decisions, you sighed while fondling idly with Jacob’s fingers. “What’s going to happen to this child once it’s born?”

“What do you mean, (Y/N)?” Jacob asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion at your words.

“The Council has their say in its life—not me,” you reminded him with a heavy sigh, gazing up at your lover with a shake of your head. “I feel like all I am doing is taking my ‘birthing station with pride’ in all of this…”

Jacob ‘tsked’ at the thought, scrunching his face up at your chosen words. “You will still be a mother to it, love; that won’t change.” When you threatened to look away, he caught your chin with his fingers and redirected your gaze to him. “You just are deemed unfit to be apart of its Assassin heritage and to decide whether or not it should be one. The Council has already decided it will be one on its fifth year. Admittedly, we got lucky—if they found out I was involved, not only would I have been banished from helping you raise it, but someone from the Council would have been its teacher.”

“Perish the thought,” you grumbled, not wanting to imagine one of those old grumpy men or that woman training your child. “Will they constantly be checking in on Emmett and me?”

Jacob stiffened at you mentioning his son, his one working eye moving about in thought as he released a noticeable sigh. “Not that I know of. They will just be writing him to remain up-to-date on the child as they will Evie and myself as well.” Moving his lips back upon yours once more, he steadied your face with his hand upon your cheek. “Don’t fret too much over it. Whatever happens will happen, and I will be there with you,” he whispered against your lips, enticing you to kiss him once more as he guided your back to the bedcovers.

You flinched from the weight your stomach pressed upon you in that position, pulling from Jacob’s kiss to roll your teeth over your lower lip as if uncertain on how to proceed. “Are you sure you really want to do this right now?”

The leather attire upon Jacob rubbed together as he shrugged at your words. “Why not? Is something wrong?”

“For one thing, Jacob, I am huge and feel like a beached whale,” you admitted, wondering what he could find so attractive about that.

“To love you for your looks would be quite shallow of me, (Y/N),” Jacob explained, his fingers caressing your cheeks as if to settle your worried mind. “Besides, you are the weight you are because you are carrying **_my_** baby—I don’t think there’s really anything more beautiful about that fact than what it is.”

It was as though he needed reassurance with that when he stressed the word ‘my’. Was he still battling with the thought Emmett was better than him in some way? You wished you could find it within yourself to talk to him about it more, but it never felt like a good time to even try. The doctors insisted you stay off your feet, rest, eat certain foods, and remain calm and stress free or it could encourage an early labor. The first few parts were a bit easy, but the stress factor was a bit overwhelming with Jacob still acting challenged by Emmett.

“Then…can we do this in some other position?” you asked quietly, holding onto his hands tightly. “I can hardly breathe with the baby pressing down on me like this.”

“I can easily shift you to your side, love,” Jacob chuckled, moving off of you then and doing so as his hand casually caressed your swollen stomach in passing. “Need to get you out of the gown anyways if I am to go further.”

Jacob did away with the white gown without much effort, tossing it to the side as he trailed his hand below your stomach and fondled with your clit without hesitation. Hands gripping onto the covers of the bed you were upon, you closed your eyes to concentrate on his slow and steady touch—his index and middle finger moving in small circles upon the knob of pleasure. You knew you had to be quiet, so you made your moans obvious in your throat, not wishing to alert Evie or Emmett, who were somewhere in the building as well.

You felt his other hand move then and gently brush against your breasts, making you hiss in a bit of pleasure and pain at him doing so. His touch softened at your obvious discomfort, making him press his finger against your darkened nipple. “Still tender, are they?”

“Very much so,” you gasped as your chest had been in a bit of pain with the milk filling there. “One reason I wish this child would be born, is so I could feed it…!”

Jacob moved your arm for him to get closer then, gently touching the spot once more with his index finger before moving his tongue upon the sensitive, erect nipple to flick his tongue across it teasingly. It was still a bit painful, but the sensation of him merely toying with your breast turned to him pressing his lips together to lightly squeeze and encourage the milk upon his tongue.

A sharp cry erupted from your mouth quickly—so quickly, you were just as speedy in trying to cover said mouth as you worried it would be too loud. “J-Jacob…!” you hissed in pleasure, curling your fingers against your quivering lips as your eyes closed to focus on the new sensation while your other hand was able to bury into his wild hair to encourage him onward. As he continued with the act, you did eventually express your concern over your sexual high. “D-Don’t drink all of it…!”

“I am not,” Jacob muttered against your breast, causing you to shudder as his warm breath and lips teased your skin. Moving his head back then, Jacob used his finger to catch a bit of stray breast milk from his mouth to be rid of it with his hand caressing your inner thigh to sooth you. “Just drinking enough to loosen the tension in your breast, as you’ll make more. Do you feel better now, (Y/N)?”

Steadying your breathing best you were able, you nodded slowly before reaching up to tug at his trench coat he was still wearing. “I imagine this is all going to get uncomfortable…best take it off before that happens,” you lightly teased.

“Ah, that already happened sometime ago, love,” Jacob teased with a knowing smirk, though going through with the action all the same as he desired less restriction in his movements.

With his growing erection exposed to you, your hand wasted no time in finding it and stroking upon the sensitive organ to encourage its growth onward. It was Jacob’s turn to feel crippled by the sensation as he breathed heavily at you eagerly groping from the base to the head. You could hardly move, however, so remaining on your side is where you stayed as Jacob began to shift your leg closest to him to place upon his shoulder and exposed your entrance to him.

“Let’s see how this position fairs,” he murmured mostly to himself as he gently touched your stomach once more to be sure he wouldn’t be harming anything as he guided himself within your body with a strained yet silent gasp of excitement. His arms moving to either side of you, you saw his body tense and his expression become almost animalistic as he was lost in the euphoric feel that nearly blinded him. It had been months since Jacob was allowed this sort of control over a sexual situation, and he nearly put all of his strength into his thrusts until he came back to himself midway through and tried to breathe in and out the aggression he wanted to unleash.

Your body jerked at his assertive, sexual thrusts upon you and you thought not about any repercussions that could really cause as your body was in a brand new hormonal state with the pregnancy. Even just his cock being buried within you was enough to make the lips of your entrance tingle and ignite a sort of fire you were not used to. It excited your body so much that your leg upon his shoulder tensed and you wished you could convey how badly you wanted every inch within you.

“A-Are you alright?” Jacob panted when he came to a slower pace, one of his hands moving to your hair to fondle with the strands soothingly. “Sorry…I didn’t mean to…get that way…!”

“I-I’m fine,” you said in return, biting your lower lip as you wanted him to continue only to feel him pull out for a second as if to tease. “Don’t stop…! Keep going…!”

He motioned to you then. “Let me get underneath you. I’ll have better control of the situation that way as will you.”

You eagerly did as he asked, eventually straddling him with your wet entrance inches from his manhood, soiled in your essence. Grabbing at the base, you urged it onward, closing your eyes yet again to take in the sensation as every inch teased and expanded your warm depth. A swear escaping your breath on the cool air, you did your best to try and urge yourself up and down upon him only to have Jacob take over by grabbing your hips.

As he continued with his eager thrusts up within you, you had forgotten how vocal you were becoming in the process. You were so lost in the connection that you didn’t even hear the door open behind you.

Jacob turned his attention towards the opened door then (as he was facing it), but seeing his son nearly walk in on the scene didn’t deter him given the more friendship and mentor like relationship the father and son had. The Master Assassin’s nostrils flared as he felt himself about to climax, prompting him to bury himself as far in as he could at that point without warning and release the built up excitement he had been sitting on for sometime, it seemed, as the bursts were insistent and powerful.

Your hands upon his chest to anchor yourself, you cried out excitedly at the rush with your own walls crashing down upon the swollen cock, attempting to milk him further as you gasped Jacob’s name before moving a hand to your lips as if to quiet yourself from being too vocal in his praises.

Again, silently, Jacob looked back to the cracked door where he knew Emmett was still standing, though the thought only gave him further satisfaction and eagerness to slowly rise you up and off of his soiled erection, which had been spent. The milky white release of you both cascading down his length and even between your own legs for any to view; in his silent actions, it was Jacob’s attempt to further taunt his son that, even in his older age, Jacob was still capable of things Emmett rarely explored unless in private.

Breathing heavily and trying to calm yourself, you looked about nervously. “I-I hope I wasn’t too loud…”

Jacob merely smirked teasingly, looking up at you as he continued to rub and sooth the child you carried with his palm upon your stomach. “I would say you were loud enough,” he commented vaguely, and his eyes caught Emmett’s in the darkness of the hallway. He witnessed as his son quickly left the scene. Regardless, it still gave Jacob the satisfaction he desired.

 

 

As you attempted to settle down for the evening, you found slight pains making the idea nearly impossible. You were told you would experience fake contractions during the last few months and to do your best to ignore them, but they were at times almost difficult to differentiate between fake and real as you had never been pregnant before.

The house had become dead quiet as everyone was asleep by this point, minus Evie who had taken to the streets on a mission to reclaim the last of the Rooks. You had found yourself sleeping in the same room as Jacob, though Jacob was now allowing you to keep the bed while he took to the floor on a few blankets incase you went into labor. You wanted to wake him and tell him you were in a bit of pain, but you stopped as he was sleeping peacefully, for once, and you had not the heart to wake him.

 _Maybe they are just fake contractions_ , you mentally soothed, getting to your feet quietly and tiptoeing out of the room to try and get some water at the very least to possibly settle the sensation.

You didn’t require any light to find your way in your own house. You knew it like the back of your hand and easily made your way down to the kitchen not far away. However, upon getting there, you found Emmett wide awake and looking out the nearby window in the kitchen and living room space. “Can’t sleep, (Y/N)?” he asked without even removing his sights from the window right away until a moment later.

“How did you know it was me?” you asked, doing your best to hide the strain in your voice as another small pain struck you.

“Heaviness in your steps as well as a desire to be quiet,” Emmett answered, pulling himself from the visions of London to venture closer to you. “My father has a different sort of heaviness to his steps and a bit of eagerness to his stride, so I can easily tell the difference between you two when you walk around this house.”

“And Evie?” you asked curiously, making it over to the cabinet to pull out a glass you needed for water.

“Quiet—hard to detect most times,” Emmett chuckled, moving to the dining room table to rest his hand against the head of one of the chairs. “It’s like she floats on air. My father was always a bit rubbish when it came to stealth, and that’s why I had my aunt teach me more than him.”

You smiled at the thought, taking the water gladly to try and quell the pain in your body. “I suppose so. I never had him to really compare to any other Master Assassin, but I can see the difference in them both.”

Emmett nodded to you with a nasally sigh. “Feeling alright? You’re talking a bit funny.”

Scrunching up your nose, you nodded with a relieved sigh at the water’s cool taste. “Just a bit of pain is all, but I’ll be fine.”

The fellow Assassin’s mouth became agape as if struggling to think on the right thing to say as he rubbed his index and thumb finger together. “You know, the doctor did tell you to take it easy, (Y/N).”

You looked to him curiously, wondering what he was getting at as you continued to drink the glass of water.

“He said any type of stress could prompt an early labor,” Emmett continued, tilting his head to the side as he looked up at you with a wrinkle of his brow. “I think ‘sex’ can easily be identified as stressful for you.”

You were glad he waited for you to swallow your drink before coming right out to say something so forward. “You…heard that…hu?” you asked nervously, cheeks burning at the thought.

“More than that, really,” Emmett came right out to say. “I heard you behind the walls, and I thought you were in pain…” He moved his hand to his face with a nasally sigh mixed with exhaustion and equal embarrassment. “…that was my mistake.”

Attempting to find light of the situation, you responded, “Guess we’re even then for the bathroom incident, hu?”

“Oh, I would say we’re more than even,” Emmett lightly laughed.

Again, the pain was being a bit persistent, and as you thought to say something about it, the door to your bedroom opened and you heard Jacob emerge.

“(Y/N)!” Jacob called eagerly from down the darkened hallway.

“She’s just in here,” answered Emmett as he leaned against the head of the chair idly.

As Jacob appeared on the scene, he looked from you to Emmett with a rather criticizing gaze. “Why are you still up?” he asked, pointing at his son.

Emmett smirked in the dimly lit room, looking downward at nothing in particular before searching his father’s face intently. “Hard to sleep, you see…what with… ‘imaginative’ thoughts burning in my skull.”

Jacob knew what his son was underlining to him and hissed back vaguely. “Then go **_release_** them.”

“Not all of us have a means of which to release such tension, father,” Emmett countered, resting his chin on his overlapped hands upon the decorative chair’s headrest. When his father didn’t counter right away, you saw Emmett cheekily wink at Jacob.

“As if you’ve not thought of means before with (Y/N) about you,” Jacob grumbled, ignoring the fact that you were looking a bit on edge during this mounting argument.

Emmett straightened his back at the accusation. Unknown to you, he was still a bit miffed with his father’s decision to let him see the proud sexual display earlier. “Do you want the truth, father dearest, or do you want me to lie?”

Jacob growled heatedly, and upon seeing him charge at Emmett, you were quick to try and intercept him after putting down your glass, though Emmett was apparently prepared for his father’s attack. “Jacob! Stop!” you urged, grabbing onto the fist that you saw him raise; however, your hold on him weakened, and you cried out in dismay as another strong pain ruptured through you followed by something wet upon your inner thigh.

“(Y/N)!” Jacob exclaimed, turning his attention to you as your grip upon him went from loosening to tightening at the powerful contraction that nearly crippled you. “Are you alright!”

Emmett looked to the floor where you were standing, noticing it was becoming wet in the moonlight, which offered him a better view on the matter. “She’s in labor!”

“Now!” you exclaimed curiously, falling into Jacob’s eager hold he had upon your upper arms as you slightly curled forward from another contraction. “I thought I wasn’t due for another two weeks!”

“Sadly, the baby has the say—not us,” Emmett reminded you, hurrying ahead of his father and you to make it to the bedroom to try and make sure everything was in order as driving you to a doctor would be reckless and dangerous in regards to putting you up in a hospital with Templars and Blighters still very much about.

The pain was becoming unbearable as you soon found rest upon your side, the contractions continued mercilessly as time passed. “Dammit, I know how to sew up a wound or two, but not how to be a bloody midwife!” Turning to his son, he snapped his fingers at him. “Go fetch a doctor—quickly!”

“You are mad! It will be an hour or so by the time I get one back here, and you need someone to help you!” Emmett scolded, narrowing his eyes disapprovingly at Jacob’s words. “Besides, mum had me, right? You were there!”

Jacob rolled his eyes at Emmett’s words. “Men are not allowed to watch their wives give birth, Emmett, as it’s considered indecent,” the Master Assassin grumbled over your pain. “I was outside of the room for several hours till you were born and your mum was cleaned up!”

You screamed as it felt like your body was stretching against your will, feeling as though you were being torn in two. “God, it hurts!”

Turning his attention to you quickly, Jacob offered you his hand to hold onto and to squeeze as you needed. “Just **_GO!_** ” Jacob snapped at his son, waving him onward. “Evie should be back eventually, but the longer you take fetching a doctor, the worse this will be for (Y/N), and we risk losing the baby or her or both!”

Emmett turned on his heels and hurried out of the room then to let the both of you be alone, hurrying to find any doctor available to aid in the situation.

You squeezed Jacob’s hand again as another painful contraction erupted through your body. No pain could compare to it. The injury you endured with your leg some months ago was a walk in the park compared to this. “Get it out of me… ** _get it out of me_** …!” you begged nearly in tears as the agony was never ending.

Jacob moved his hand to your gown, trying to see what was happening in the nearly lightless room as you both hadn’t lit a candle or anything of the sort. “I promise to be gentle,” he whispered over your moans of discomfort as he fondled about to try and make sense of the situation. “I don’t feel the head of the baby, (Y/N). You’re still preparing to give birth.” Looking to you then, he urged you to hold on as he tried to distract your mind from the pain by talking to you about any and everything he could.

It didn’t take Emmett nearly as long as he thought it would to fetch the doctor, as he arrived sometime later with one he was able to ‘persuade’ out of bed (according to him). The men were allowed to stay, as the doctor was short on help for such a premature expectance of a baby. When you thought the agonizing hours wouldn’t end, you were thankfully administered chloroform over a cloth to be inhaled to numb the pain you were experiencing and allow for pushing to be that much easier on you when the time came for it.

However, with how late it was and how exhausted you felt, your mind became a mess and your body was weak…even the baby crying was almost a distant memory to you as you found yourself passing out from exhaustion.

 

  

It would be a few hours later to when you were able to finally come back to yourself. With the chloroform wearing off, you looked about the room wearily to notice Jacob was sitting in the chair beside your bed with the baby swaddled in his arms. The baby was quiet, but awake, as you could see its small hand grabbing onto the fingers Jacob had near its face.

“Jacob?” you whispered tiredly, turning to him only to regret the thought as you were still recovering from giving birth.        

The Master Assassin turned his attention from the newborn to you at that moment, smiling in relief. “Hey, you’re awake,” he said softly, reaching for your hand upon fetching it back from the baby. “How do you feel?”

 “Still a bit sore,” you expressed with a furrow of your brow, finding it nearly impossible to move. “How is the baby..?” 

“A baby boy,” Jacob responded with pride, a smile giving life to his aged features as he moved the newborn about in his arms to let you have a better look at him. “Did you want to hold him?” 

He looked like any other baby, but the difference for you was that it was yours and you eagerly nodded at Jacob’s offer. 

Jacob aided you in sitting upright before supporting your arms as he knew you were still weary and weak from giving birth. With the child now in your embrace, he aided you in moving the gown out of the way to see if the baby would nurse. “Doctor said it was wise to get him feeding as he is a bit early.” 

“Is that bad that he was?” you asked, flinching slightly as your son did very much find the nipple when exposed and latched on hungrily. “Goodness, he’s just as needy as you are!” 

The Assassin scoffed at your teasing words. “No, it just means he’s a little weak. Emmett was two weeks late when his mum had him, and that lateness shows in everything that lad does.” He was joking, and honestly, you would just find relief in that as you didn’t want to push the aggression between the two further. 

“What should we name him?” you asked, moving a hand near the baby’s to watch as he held it with what little strength he had. 

Jacob shrugged his shoulders, as he remained close to be sure your strength still held up alright. “What do you want to name him, (Y/N)? You were the one to carry him for so many months.” 

“Yes, but you are still a father to him,” you commented in return, raising your brow to Jacob. 

“You make the decision, and I’ll either agree or disagree.”

Turning to look at your son again, you thought of the perfect name for him and expressed it there in the quiet room. Jacob smiled sideways at the thought, nodding at the answer before moving to kiss your forehead, gently caressing the head of his newborn son.


	7. Parenthood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader juggles being a mother while attempting to keep things under control with Jacob, Emmett, and the Council’s intervention with Gabriel’s upbringing.
> 
> Tried to make this NSFW, but the layout of the story wouldn't let me. Sorry, dears.

Gabriel.

It was the name that made the most sense for you given the biblical references in Jacob and Evie’s own names. It was satisfactory for Jacob, but you had a feeling he’d agree to anything you’d say, so you made sure to choose wisely. The baby was quiet most times and rarely cried as much as you were expecting, but you tried to enjoy in that thought for now as you were still weary and trying to heal.

“You really want my hat, don’t you?” you heard Emmett’s voice whispering in the back of your mind as you were trying to rest. “It’s quite dirty—I don’t think you should be touching it none.”

Fluttering your eyes open slowly, you let your sight focus to the dimly lit room to notice Emmett sitting there with Gabriel, sure enough. Seeing the half-brothers interact made you smile. Emmett was merely cradling Gabriel close, but it seemed your son really wanted to look to the top hat on his elder brother’s head given the small hand you would see stretching upward as if in an attempts to grab it.

“So he’s awake,” you said, voice heavy with exhaustion. The baby was constantly sleeping to the point you rarely got to see his eyes, but Gabriel’s eyes, so far, were the baby blue you’d expect them to be for a newborn.

Emmett snapped his head in your direction upon hearing your weary tone give a bit more life to the quiet room. “I apologize, love,” he said softly still. “Did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t,” you lied horribly, causing Emmett to shoot you a gentle accusing stare to admit to you that he didn’t buy your kind fib. “It is fine; I assure you.” You turned to your back, rubbing your eyes lazily to try and stretch just a bit and be rid of the sleep from your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” Emmett asked, continuing to carefully rock Gabriel in his arms.

You scrunched up your face upon turning to your side to acknowledge Emmett better. “Still a bit sore, but I am just glad the baby is out…that was a nightmare.”

“Well, next time you might want to deny the conductor that rough train ride, as I said before,” the fellow Assassin lightly teased in regards to the sexual romp with Jacob.

A brief, feeble laugh escaped your lips. “If there is a next time with having his babies. I think one is enough for me right now,” you chuckled though felt a bit awful for the fight that ensued between him and Jacob. “I am sorry Jacob lost his temper like that. He was acting threatened by you ever since you came around…” You were reluctant to admit that part, but you didn’t mean for Jacob to attack his only son at that moment.

Emmett nasally laughed, thinning his lips as if to force a smile. “Ah, I am used to it, love,” he said with a sort of neutral tone that was hard to place. “He wouldn’t have hit me hard none,” Emmett continued to sooth your worries. “We knock one another’s bollocks around all the time like two older brothers trying to show off our strengths. You know how men can be.”

You scrunched your nose up and shrugged. “I guess. Only men I really knew were the Rooks that would take pride in ripping off their shirts to fight for fun.”

Again, Emmett laughed quietly. “Lovely women around to prompt that, I fancy.”

“Like they do that nonsense for women,” you scoffed, holding your pillow close to you.

Emmett looked to you from just under the rim of his top hat with a raise of his brow that the nearby candlelight illuminated. “Tell me something, did my father ever do that around you?”

Eyes shifting about in the dim lighting of the room, you hummed in thought. “There was a time he did…when I didn’t know he was in love with me; hell, I don’t know if he was in love with me when he did that. He got into a few tussles with the Rooks to just play fight, as they do.”

“I rest my case,” said Emmett with a knowing smile. “If that bloke can flex his cock to impress a woman at his age, he’ll do it.”

You wrinkled your brow, shaking your head in confusion best you could while on your side. “Why do you always just see him as a friend and brother—rarely a father?”

Wrinkling his brow, Emmett looked down at his half-brother, who had fallen asleep apparently, and then looked back to you. “He really loved her—my mother, that is,” Emmett answered almost randomly. “They met way back when in Crawley and were best friends. Needless to say, they decided to be one another’s first…and I was conceived unknown to my father, who left for London sometime later before she could tell him.”

You felt your heart squeeze in a mixture of emotions at the thought—jealousy for one, but for two, sorrow for the woman you knew only by stories.

“She was scared, as she told me. She knew what he was…she knew what he did…and she didn’t want me to befall that same fate, but she knew it wouldn’t be kind to keep me a secret. Needless to say, she tracked him down in London and was already about five or so months,” Emmett continued, shifting Gabriel about in his arms. “Father was shocked, as I imagine any bloke would finding out their childhood friend is pregnant with their baby; however, father was still working as an Assassin trying to clean up London when she showed up, so things were a bit dodgy for a time.”

Emmett reclined back in the chair he was sitting in, looking upward at the ceiling with a heavy sigh as if talking about it was a bit of a challenge. “When I was born, he tired his best to be around, but it was hard on him what with the Creed and all. That didn’t quite stop me from admiring him, though,” he admitted with pride, moving then to take Gabriel to his crib to let the small boy sleep a bit more comfortably without his help. Taking back to the chair after the baby was tucked in comfortably, Emmett clasped his hands between his legs with a shrug. “Well, it all eventually went to total shite when I said… ‘mum…I want to be an Assassin and work with daddy’ when I was six.”

You flinched at the thought. Those words would no doubt be hard for any mother to hear knowing what the Creed brings.

“She began to loathe my father after that moment, and to make a long story short: their marriage and their friendship soon ended some years later.” Sucking in his lower lip, Emmett lowered his head briefly as if to hide how he felt about that. “After that,” he began again, his voice strained, “I felt like my father just really needed a brother and a friend more than he needed a son…a son who screwed up his happiness like that.”

“Emmett…” you sighed somberly, wrinkling your brow at the thought. “None of that was your fault.”

“Aah, it felt like it, love,” he whispered, rubbing his upper arms as if to calm his inner feelings. “That’s why I just want him happy. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him really happy as he has been lately.”

“Yet, you say something as bold as you did to nearly piss him off,” you reminded Emmett in regards to Jacob chastising his own son for possibly fantasizing about you. When you reminded him of that, Emmett looked to you quickly before bowing his head with a muffled, breath of a laugh. “Were you being honest when you said such a thing, or were you lying just to make him mad?”

The Assassin smiled warmly to your question. “Do you want the truth, my dear, or do you want me to lie?” Emmett asked, quoting what he said to his own father.

The thought made you jerk your head back with confusion. Did he really have feelings, or was he just being playful? “Whatever you want to tell me, I guess.”

Emmett exposed the hidden blade underneath his left hand to toy about with the mechanism for a bit as if to ignore the issue. “I will say,” Emmett began, looking to you then, “that he is lucky, and I won’t be the one to fuck this up. He can feel threatened by my presence all he wants, but I won’t take away his happiness again…” Moving to his feet then, Emmett placed his hand supportively on your shoulder as his breath caressed your ear when he moved closer to whisper to you. “Get some rest.”

You were about to consent to the idea when you felt Emmett move to kiss your cheek before he turned away and headed for the door to leave you in peace.

Again, you were alone, as Jacob was in the other room to allow you peace for a bit till he felt the need to retire for the evening. You could easily hear him chatting beyond the wall a bit with Evie (you guessed) until Emmett joined the conversation, prompting a muffled ‘how are they’ question to be heard from Jacob.

You were tired, and the humming sounds of conversation going on in the living room were oddly relaxing. Your eyes turning to the crib in the bedroom you were now, not only sharing with Jacob, but with Gabriel as well, you smiled your relief that the baby was okay. Had you the strength, you would have gotten up to retrieve him to hold him for a bit longer, but exhaustion overtook you swiftly and you soon nodded off to bed.

 

\--

 

It took some time to recover from childbirth, but within a week or so, you found yourself able to finally find your feet once more. As you took to the living room with Gabriel early one morning, you noticed Evie was up much earlier than yourself and her belongings were being packed away for the time being.

“Evie?” you breathed in the quiet of the cold room, rocking your newborn son in your arms.

Evie’s attention turned to you knowingly as if aware you were there sometime yet. “You are up quite early, my dear,” pointed out the Master Assassin as she secured the latch on one of her pieces of luggage before checking the time on her pocket watch.

“I could say the same for you,” you responded, making sure the blanket around Gabriel was keeping your newborn warm. “Where are you going?”

Perhaps she could hear the concern in your voice, causing the corners of her lips to curl into a loving smile. “I am heading back to India for the time being, (Y/N).”

The answer came at such a shock as she made no indication that she desired to head back to India in the days before. “But what about Jacob?” you asked quickly, turning to look down the hallway at the mention of her twin brother. “His leg hasn’t fully healed.” Jacob still kept that cane-sword around him as a means to walk, and even the doctors couldn’t exactly say when or if it would heal as it should. If that ever became the case…London would be down another Assassin.

“It will be all right, (Y/N),” Evie soothed, moving to you then to place her hand upon your shoulder. “I spoke to Jacob about this last night, and he is encouraging me to return to India—to our fellow friend and my husband, Henry Green.”

That was right. You forgot for a moment that Evie was married herself to a man in India who used to work in London. She had bid that farewell to come and rescue Jacob and then tend to the problems going on with the Rooks in Whitechapel. “Didn’t you promise the Council you would return?” You had to admit that losing her for a bit wasn’t something you expected so soon. The thought of being in a house with only Emmett and Jacob was almost suffocating.

“Of course,” responded Evie kindly, nodding to your question to show she had intended on keeping that promise. “However, I need to talk to Henry about this first and see how he feels. If things go well, then…I will return either with or without him.” The mere mention of coming back without him made the Assassin’s words heavy, but she turned her green eyes to Gabriel and her warm nature returned. “May I?” Evie asked, opening her arms to the idea of holding her nephew.

You reacted without question, moving the sleeping Gabriel to his aunt. The baby cooed tenderly at the warmth of his aunt but moved not an inch as Evie held him protectively so. “I am still trying to get used to the fact he’s mine,” you admitted between the two of you, making Evie look to you curiously then. When you saw her confusion, you did your best to explain. “I just…I never pictured myself as becoming a mother, really. I know it was expected of me, but…I guess I just imagined my Assassin duties would keep me from a family life.”

“They sometimes can,” Evie whispered between you two as she moved her finger to caress Gabriel’s cheek, causing the small hand nearby to react to the touch. “But, you are with another Assassin and, as the Council sees you with Emmett, they will probably try to talk him into having more children with you as you’re both young.”

You released a nasally sigh at the thought. “The one was enough for me.”

“The Council won’t see it so,” Evie reminded you, rocking Gabriel in her arms. “Believe me, my dear, they pressured myself as well.” She smiled a sort of sarcastic smile that almost shined a bit of her brother through her. “Escaping to India was a bit of a reprieve from all that rubbish. As for becoming a mum when you don’t feel ready, well…” She paused and handed Gabriel over to you, intentionally moving the blanket a bit from his face so you could get a better look upon your son. “…talk to my brother about that one. He didn’t think he could be a father himself to Emmett, and I will be the first to tell you—that man changed quickly when he held his son in his arms for the first time.”

 _But it didn’t remain that way_ , you thought to yourself in regards to the obvious strain those two had in their father and son relationship.

Evie moved her gloved fingers to your chin to try and get you to find respite in the situation at hand as your worry was showing even in the small bit of morning light peering in through the nearby windows. “I promise that I will return, (Y/N), and with more Assassins unless the Council sees fit to send in their own children to London now. Until then, enjoy parenthood. I swear to you that it is rewarding.” At that moment, Evie grabbed up her belongings she had packed away. “Give my brother my regards as well as my nephew, Emmett. Tell them both I will return as soon as I can.”

And with that, Evie hurried for the door and left you alone in the deafening silence of the house as Emmett was off in Westminster and Jacob was still slumbering.

Sighing through your nostrils, you thought on what to do in regards to breakfast. You weren’t sure if Emmett would return just yet or not. You knew he often frequented Westminster for the sake of his mother but he had been gone for the entire week as of late. A part of you couldn’t help but worry.

“I guess I should try and get started on breakfast then,” you muttered aloud to yourself only to have Gabriel start to fuss softly in your arms at that moment. Shushing him in a loving way, you took to the nearby sofa to get comfortable and unbuttoned a few buttons of your nightgown to allow the baby the food he was probably getting cranky for. Cradling his head close to your exposed breast, you let Gabriel eat first while attempting to grow accustomed in the silence Evie’s departure caused.

 

 

It would be a few hours later when Jacob finally woke to join you in the dining room after you had prepared dinner. He wasn’t using the cane-sword this time, but you couldn’t help but notice the small limp all the same. “How is your leg feeling?” you asked, moving the toast and eggs over to his side of the table, cradling Gabriel still.

Jacob sighed in relief at being off of his feet as he took to the dining room chair offered him. “I am sure it will be fine in time, love.” His words expressed he wasn’t sure, but he wanted to hold onto the idea that it would be as he moved the plate closer to himself.

Joining him, you swallowed nervously. “What if it doesn’t…?”

You honestly expected Jacob to be a bit crabby at your question as he wasn’t much for mornings you noticed or questions regarding his health, but all the Assassin did was shrug his shoulders and eyebrows to the ideas as his mouth was soon full of the toast you had prepared for him. “I will make do,” Jacob responded, trying to cover his mouth with his napkin in his response so you wouldn’t see his breakfast when he spoke. “How are you feeling this morning, (Y/N)? How is Gabriel?”

Smiling, you turned your attention to the sleeping baby once more. “He appears fine. Doesn’t cry as much as I thought he would…” To be honest with yourself, you knew so little of children and what to expect.

Jacob stifled a laugh, moving to drink the milk on the table before shifting a hand to Gabriel’s head to tenderly stroke the crown of his son. “That will change once this little one finds his lungs and strength,” Jacob reminded you. “Emmett was quiet for a few weeks himself, and then my ex-wife and I rarely found a moment’s peace.”

“Did it agitate you any?” you asked, a small bit of laughter clinging to your words.

Spying that your question was playful, Jacob unfolded his hands he had placed there on the table as if to substitute for a shrug when his fingers recoiled into fists. “I was a bit of an arse when not getting much sleep, but they are fond memories I wouldn’t trade for anything,” the Master Assassin admitted.

A smile forming upon your lips, it was then you remembered that a letter was brought to you for Jacob to read when you were cooking the meal earlier. Shifting from where you sat, you pulled it from the pocket of the pants you were wearing to show to Jacob.

“What’s this then?” Jacob muttered, his mouth occupied with the eggs you had cooked. When he saw you urging it towards him, he wiped his lips with the napkin nearby and took the letter that was apparently for him. You saw his chest restrict ever so slightly and his back straightened up at the writing on the front.

You yourself weren’t exactly sure who could have sent it. “I didn’t recognize the writing, but it was addressed to you.”

“It’s from my ex-wife, Lindy,” Jacob whispered in response, setting aside his breakfast to open the letter quickly and read it over with interest.

You couldn’t help but be nervous. Yes, the two were divorced, but why would she finally be writing him back after all this time of trying to avoid him? You didn’t want to intrude, but you were curious as to what this two page letter was about. “So…what does it say…?”

“She says that…” Jacob’s voice derailed as he moved the first part of the letter behind the second to get the entire story. His thumb and index finger idly rubbing together as he thought on how to sum up the message, his lips moving to her written words in a hurried fashion. “…that she was out of London for a bit and was visiting friends in Crawley. She just now heard of the incident with Jack from Emmett and was going to come see me soon.” Jacob folded up the letter then and placed it into his pant’s pocket. “So…that means that woman is going to be screaming at me for being so reckless—again.”

You noticed the awkward smile (even if brief) that flashed upon Jacob’s face when he said such a thing and went back to enjoying his breakfast. “Will she be staying here?” Nervousness gripped upon you and felt as though it was desiring to strangle you with its icy grip. Would she even like the idea of what was going on between you and Jacob? Would she approve? No, you didn’t need her approval, but still…

“I doubt it,” Jacob said with a small laugh. “Woman cannot stand me much, and the less air she has to breathe with me the better she feels.” Turning to you then, he noticed how worried you seemed and reached for your leg under the table to squeeze it reassuringly. “Stop looking so fretful, (Y/N). If you’re worried about how she is going to react about what’s going on here, trust me when I tell you she won’t care.”

Continuing to rock and cradle Gabriel, you took a deep breath in and outward to exile your nerves. If Jacob promised it would be alright, well…you only had his word to take him up on.

 

\--

 

You couldn’t help but dread the coming days as you did. Trying to keep your mind occupied with Gabriel, you waited for that moment that Lindy would appear…this childhood friend of Jacob’s who had more of a history with the man you loved than you did. Your heart felt as though it would leap from your chest at any minute as you fed your son, eyes upon the door apprehensively.

Jacob was still resting, trying to get his leg to function and heal as it should, and while he was walking just fine without the cane-sword, there were moments a pain in it would flare up now and again, crippling the Assassin. Jacob wanted to dismiss it and claim he was cured, but the doctors insisted he remain in bed for a week longer to be sure it was healing properly.

You let him rest in peace, promising to let Lindy and Emmett in when they arrived, but you felt as though you had been sitting in place for hours with no sign of either of them. “I do hope they show soon,” you whispered to yourself, staring up at the clock nearby that was emitting the only sound so far to keep you company beyond Gabriel’s occasional cooing and suckling noises.

When the clock chimed the hour that evening, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard a knock at the door. Moving to your feet, you rushed to the front door and opened it ever so slightly. You were expecting Emmett, at least, or some woman roughly Jacob’s age or slightly younger to be standing there…but instead, it was a female who appeared to be a bit older than Jacob standing before you with her hands clasped firmly before her gown.

Her hair was a faded brown with some bits of orangey red, which illuminated in the dim lighting (from what you could tell) with a very long and vibrant silver streak happening upon the right side. The wavy hair had a few strands loosely hanging in her face while the others were braided back up into a partial bun, allowing the rest to hang freely to her upper back. Her eyes reminded you of Emmett (as did the curls in her hair) and, just as Emmett had his fair share of freckles, you could spy a small few on this woman’s arms.

Was this Lindy? “May I help you…?” you asked, keeping Gabriel close to your chest out of reflex and worry something may happen to him with this stranger before you.

“I was told Jacob would be here,” the woman responded, motioning just behind her where the cobblestone road would lead out from the back buildings and to the road beyond. “Emmett, my son, told me to come on in as you would be expecting me.” Politely, the woman grabbed onto her decorative gown and curtsied in greeting. “My name is Lindy, and you must be (Y/N).” Here, she extended her gloved hand to accept yours.

“Yes,” you responded with relief at the first meeting, accepting Lindy’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Lindy.” Realizing that you were keeping her outside in the horrible cold you apologized with a slight bow and moved to motion for her to come inside. “Please, come in.” As she moved her dress out of the way of her feet, you watched as the woman practically glided across the floor as she walked. “Where is Emmett?” you asked, closing the door behind her.

“He was fetching my belongings for me,” Lindy responded, her voice showing a bit of her age as the words sounded feeble. “He will be here shortly, and, don’t worry, dear—I don’t plan on staying here long.” Turning to you then, she bowed her head at the circumstances. “Westminster is just so far from here, you see, so a fancied a night or two just to be sure all is well.” Her green eyes shifted from your own sight to the infant in your embrace. The wrinkles upon her outer lips deepened as she smiled a sort of smile that seemed to recall memories. “Yours, is he?”

“Oh, yes—Gabriel is his name,” you answered. You would have said he was Jacob’s too, but did Lindy really need to know? Did Jacob want her to know? Honestly, you weren’t sure what information you could really surrender to this woman.

Lindy moved her lips inward, keeping a calm and neutral look to the small child. “He is beautiful,” she complimented. “I am sure Jacob is proud.”

Your embrace accidentally became tighter upon your newborn when she said such a thing. Not like you felt threatened by anything she said or did…you just didn’t know her and what she was thinking about all of this. “You’re not…mad…are you?”

“The bloke is old enough to decide who he desires to have a child with,” Lindy excused. “I don’t have a say in such a thing with him any longer.” When she heard movement outside of the door, she nodded towards it before there was even a knock. “I’ll get that. I am sure it is Emmett.”

As the woman had fetched the door, Emmett was on the verge of trying to knock on it when he saw his mother standing there to allow him inside. “Ah, brilliant—you heard me coming,” he panted, hauling the two suitcases inside of the living room to the best of his ability.

“A steam train is more subtle than you, son,” Lindy teased, closing the door behind him.

“At times I can be a bit more delicate, mum!” Emmett lightly jabbed back, fixing the luggage in place in the room.

You motioned behind you where the kitchen and dining room was. “Just to the left is the hallway, which leads to the bathroom and bedroom we have.” Admittedly, you only had the one…so where Emmett and Lindy were going to sleep was going to be interesting. “Jacob is in that room on the back left.”

Lindy nodded kindly to your words. “Thank you, (Y/N). I promise, I won’t disturb him long.” Again, you watched as she moved her dress from her path and headed in the direction you gestured towards.

When he heard the door to Jacob and your room open and close, Emmett sighed quietly. “I do hope they’ll stay civil.”

By reflex, you accidentally knocked Emmett on the chest with the back of your hand. “You didn’t tell me she was older than Jacob!” you whispered in shock.

Emmett playfully rubbed the area you struck and chuckled. “I said ‘they were childhood friends’…I didn’t say they were the same age now, did I, love?” He ran his fingers through his curly hair and shrugged. “She is eleven years older than my father.”

“Eleven?” you accidentally gasped, though you were in no position to say anything given the age differences between you and Jacob.

“My mum was like a nanny to my father’s family when he was but a small lad. She came over now and again to take care of him and my aunt both when my great grandma raised them and even when my grandfather came back to take control of things.” Plopping down on the sofa nearby, Emmett sighed a relaxing sigh as he attempted to get comfortable with his arms outstretched over the headpiece. “Needless to say, my father fell in love with her and begged for my mum to wait for him…” the Assassin paused, and you saw his green eyes look away almost somberly. “Bloody shame how it ended.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about it. It was upsetting their romance ended, but if it hadn’t, you wouldn’t have become close to Jacob as you had.

“You appear knackered, love,” said Emmett, breaking you from your train of thought. “Did you want me to handle Gabriel while you rest a bit?”

“Oh, I…I couldn’t ask that of you while your mom and all of that is going on here, Emmett,” you excused, keeping the slumbering child close.

Emmett raised his hand to the accusation, moving to sit upright on the sofa. “Nonsense, (Y/N). I can handle my brother if you want to lie down on the couch for a bit.”

Honestly, you had been stressing yourself out so poorly that you were getting exhausted and the idea of a break was nice. Trying to be discrete in your sigh, you moved then to pass Gabriel over to Emmett, causing Emmett to move off of the sofa for you to have. “Thank you,” you praised, removing your shoes from your feet and trying to get comfortable upon the decorative cushions. “I’ll just close my eyes for a little bit…won’t be long…”

Emmett merely nodded, moving his hand to the blanket draped over the sofa to fix it upon you accordingly. “Just relax, (Y/N). I’ll make sure everything is fine.”

 

 

You weren’t sure how long you had been asleep as you didn’t bother to catch the time prior. You were awoken to the sounds of muffled yet risen voices just down the hall, and you almost forgot that Jacob’s ex-wife was there till it all started coming back to you.

“E-Emmett…?” you called wearily, noticing he wasn’t in the room himself, prompting you to your feet and down the hallway in the dining room to find out what the fighting was about.

As you ventured to do so, it was there you saw him—Emmett was holding Gabriel close while leaning against the wall opposite the door heading into yours and Jacob’s bedroom. His head was slightly lowered and he was chewing on his thumb as if to show a bad habit he kept in secret.

“Emmett?” you whispered, noticing the man look upon you then but shush you quietly with his finger to his lips. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing—go back to sleep,” Emmett almost ordered, but his words were soft and nonthreatening, leaving you to do as you wished.

“You were reckless to allow Jack to do this to you,” came Lindy’s voice disapprovingly. “But that’s always been your style—acting on impulse and very rarely thinking of others!”

“I still breathe, do I not?” Jacob grumbled behind the door in return. “Lindy, I couldn’t…I just…couldn’t bring myself to kill him!”

“You nearly surrendered your life for a madman’s.” Lindy’s voice broke at the thought. “I saw him as a son too, you know…but Jack was just too far gone for you—!”

Jacob’s words rattled with a sort of anger you rarely heard from him. “I could have saved him!”

Emmett flinched at the muffled fury of his father, sucking in his lips at the pain that riddled him as well from the possible loss of Jack as well as the fact his parents weren’t getting along—again. Out of reflex, you moved then and placed your hand supportively on the young man’s arm to let him know you were there.

“You cannot save the world, Jacob,” sighed Lindy heartbrokenly. “You put your focus on everybody else and, in that process, forgot about Emmett and me!”

Again, Emmett flinched and sighed. “Mum…” he seemed to groan in disapproval.

“Don’t you dare say that…! I did everything in my power for you and that boy, and I still do! Who the bloody hell do you think I fight for!”

“I gave up everything for you, Jacob!” Lindy reminded him in return, her words quivering in a means to show she was probably on the verge of crying. “I gave up **_everything_** for you, and you frequently acted without reason! Even with that poor woman who was pregnant at the time with your child…you acted as brash as you did and nearly died. Did you not even think on who you would be leaving behind when you attempted to reach Jack in his mad state? Can you imagine (Y/N) being without you and that boy growing up without a father—without Emmett having a father?”

You didn’t want to be reminded of such a horror, and it was those words that struck you as equally as they did Emmett it seemed. Seeing Emmett looking away as he kept Gabriel close to his chest, you gently tried to shake the Assassin back to himself. “Come on,” you whispered. “Perhaps it is better we don’t listen to this…”

Emmett was almost reluctant to move, but eventually he saw reason and removed himself from the position he was in to head back to the living room where the conversation would be a bit more drowned out.

“Was loving me as bad as all of that?” you heard Jacob ask, making you stop in your footsteps for some reason as you could hear the pain in the man’s words even if they were muffled.

There was a silence from Lindy’s side of the conversation and you heard movement from behind the door to indicate she had probably risen to her feet. “No,” she struggled to express as her words were hindered by her obvious sadness. “I do miss you and the beautiful times we shared together, Jacob.” Lindy paused in her confession. “But I am happy you have found your happiness.”

“You have not found yours?” Jacob questioned.

“It is too late for me, Jacob,” answered Lindy, trying to remove her somberness in a steady exhale. “I am too old to find happiness right now.”

Jacob shifted about behind the door as he muffled something behind his hands, which he possibly had over his mouth for a second before speaking clearly. “I am sorry I have done you evil that I cannot undo. You meant everything to me…the last thing I wanted to do was cause you pain…”

“What evil?” Lindy questioned, a small tenor of a laugh on her words. “You gave me a chance at love and that boy…Emmett…you gave him to me too, so I cannot call what happened with us as ‘evil’.”

You heard Lindy take to the doorknob and your legs nearly locked up in nervousness of being caught eavesdropping.

“Lindy,” called Jacob, stalling her actions. “If it means anything, I miss you too.”

Even if hearing such a thing made your heart squeeze, you hadn’t the time to think on it and quickly hurried out of the hallway and to the living room where Emmett and Gabriel were waiting.

Emmett was sitting in the ornate chair in the living room, idly rocking Gabriel as his eyes moved to gander at nothing in particular within the room. When he heard you finally appear, his green eyes came upon you urgently. “They do this all the time,” he whispered, moving to kiss his half-brother upon his forehead. “I pray this lad will have a much more peaceful life with two Assassin parents.”

You fidgeted ever so slightly at Emmett’s words before sitting opposite of him. “To me it sounds like they miss one another.” More than anything, you hoped the worry and fear in your tone wasn’t obvious, but something caused Emmett to chuckle lightheartedly.

“My parents regret what happened in many ways,” he whispered to you. “I think…they both were too headstrong to say they were sorry and just reconcile in the past.” Emmett shrugged his brow at the thought. “It’s too late now regardless.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you weren’t sure where the conversation should really go after that point. Everything felt too personal to say before Emmett with Lindy and Jacob nearby.

“I sent a letter to the Council regarding Gabriel,” said Emmett, breaking the silence. “Charles responded back not that long ago in regards to it, telling us to keep them updated on Gabriel’s health and wellness as he grows.”

“What about Jacob’s?” you asked, nodding towards the hallway. “His leg is still healing.”

Emmett moved Gabriel in his arms to where the infant was resting upon his shoulder, his hand rubbing the child’s back. “I didn’t tell them about that,” he admitted. “If what the doctor said before, that a week off of it could heal it completely, I’d rather wait and see if that is indeed the case before telling them one of their Assassins is crippled.”

“If Jacob **_can_** stay off of it,” you muttered, looking down at the floor guilty as you said such a thing.

“With my mum here, I can lessen your load for a bit, love. Let me handle my father or Gabriel—whichever you choose. My mum is content to cook for us all, if you’ll allow her to till she leaves.”

The idea sounded nice. “What about sleep? I only have the one bedroom here and the sofa.”

“I’ll be active on my duties during the night,” Emmett insisted with a wave of his hand. “My mum can have the sofa, and you and my father can remain in the bed. I’ll just sleep during the day and a bit of the afternoon.”

You couldn’t help but feel that would be a bit awkward…a woman Jacob was once married to knowing he was resting with another that wasn’t her? You couldn’t even say the two of you were married, because…well…you weren’t. Jacob was just ‘the father of your son’ and your ‘bed buddy’ to put kindly. “If she is fine with it…”

“Still so worried,” Emmett commented with a small laugh hidden within his words. “It’s going to be fine, love. I swear it.”

 

\--

 

Lindy did stay as she promised and while it was awkward for the first day, it got easier to digest with her being in the house (even if Jacob and her fought now and again when able). The supposed two days became a bit longer—four, really, but by the beginning of the fifth day, Lindy had packed up her belongings and headed out of your home to let you be.

“I am sorry you couldn’t stay longer,” you admitted, as having Lindy around was nice with a few things off of your plate with Evie gone, Jacob bedridden still, and Emmett mostly working graveyard shifts for his Assassin duties.

“I was happy I could help, (Y/N),” said Lindy as she kept her luggage close to the door for departure. “However, I do hate that my aggression continues to lash out at that man whenever I find the opportunity.” Her gloved hand to her wrinkled forehead, she nasally sighed. “I shouldn’t resent him, I know, but there’s just so much that is unresolved with us.” Lindy removed her fingers slowly from her forehead as she peered at the door ahead. “I just felt like he took my son from me…the one being I had in my life when he was off busy ‘saving London’. But—,” again, she expelled a weary sigh, “—it was Emmett’s choice and not Jacob’s.” In those words, it was like she was trying to remind herself of that fact.

As you cradled Gabriel closer to your chest, Lindy looked upon the infant boy and her frown deepened.

“Jacob told me what’s to happen to Gabriel, because of his irresponsible behavior,” she whispered, her words harboring knowing pain. “I do wish you strength and courage in this, (Y/N)…two things I horribly lacked…”

Before you could hope to ask her further about what she meant, Lindy was quick to grab at her belongings and dash out the door to catch a carriage back to Westminster. Emmett had yet to return, leaving you to cradle your child in private as Gabriel started to get fussy again. He seemed to be acting a bit upset lately over something, and you could only assume it was a need to eat.

“What is wrong, sweetheart?” you whispered in worry as his sobbing was becoming a bit constant and causing a cough now and again. Since you were new to children, you assumed the coughing was from how frequently and loudly Gabriel would cry. Moving your hand to his face, it was then you felt a bit panicked as you realized how warm he felt to the touch. “Jacob!” you called, hurrying down the hall with your fussy son in your arms.

Jacob was trying to rest in the bed as instructed upon his back with his legs outstretched when you came into the bedroom as you did. His hands clasped upon his chest as he appeared to be lightly daydreaming, he turned to you then and sat upright at your urgency. “What’s all this then, love?” Jacob asked, concerned.

“Gabriel—I think he’s sick!”

Opening his arms for you to hand him his son, Jacob could feel the same warmness that you had but he remained calm. “Where is Emmett?” he asked, trying to sooth Gabriel.

“Not back yet! I’ve not seen him!”

“Shhh, shhh,” whispered Jacob to his sobbing child, bringing Gabriel closer to his chest, rubbing his back in a loving motion. “Did you feed him yet?” His demeanor remained unshaken.

“He’s been too upset to even try and drink properly,” you admitted, trying not to panic further as a child dying from diseases wasn’t that uncommon.

 “Probably cannot breathe through his nose well, as he sounds a bit stuffy.” Jacob grunted as he removed the covers from his body and moved to his feet before handing Gabriel back to you, grabbing for his pants shortly after to get them on. “Try to get him to eat. I need to call the doctor.”

“Jacob—!” you began in a scolding tone, as you wanted him to sit still and rest, but the Assassin raised his hand to your complaint and hurried down the hall to where the phone was.

“Feed him, (Y/N)!” Jacob rebuked in return over his shoulder as he hurried onward.

Trying to settle your worries, you sat down on the bedside and attempted to encourage the thought to Gabriel again by exposing your breast to him and letting him know it was fine to eat. The child would only suckle for a moment before pulling away, coughing and crying in discomfort over whatever it was he had.

“What is wrong, baby?” you whispered in worry even if you knew your son couldn’t answer you.

 

 

 

When the doctor arrived, it just felt as though Gabriel’s sobs were getting worse. It was heartbreaking…your child crying out for comfort and you knew not what to do to sooth him. Seeing the doctor even try to diagnose the problem and spying the infant wail while moving his small hands about in a desire to be held, you nearly bolted from where Jacob sat only to have the Assassin grab at your wrist and hold you in place.

“Let him work, (Y/N),” Jacob insisted, his thumb tenderly rubbing the back of your tensed hand. “Gabriel will be alright.”

You could only pray so. Gabriel looked so defenseless lying there…how was a small boy such as him supposed to take to the field and murder people…? Would your son even make it out as an Assassin? Would you see him become a man at all?

Now you were beginning to understand Lindy’s horror at the idea of Emmett becoming apart of the Creed.

After a few tests being run, the doctor was able to diagnosis it as whooping cough. The poor boy was running a fever, had a runny nose, and was coughing a rather awful, dry cough. Sadly, there was no vaccine for the illness, and the only thought to cure it was leeches to drain blood from the throat—bloodletting.

The idea horrified you. “He’s just a baby!” you whispered tearfully to Jacob, grabbing at his shirt.

“I know he is, (Y/N), but we either let the doctor do it or Gabriel could get worse and die,” Jacob reminded you with concern as well. He too was affected by the sound of his son crying and desiring to be comforted.

Faltering under that realization, you nodded hesitantly at the procedure being requested. “Fine…”

“You do not need to be here for this,” the doctor assured as he headed for the door to get to his carriage just outside that would have what he needed.

Hands to your face, you were torn at what to do. You didn’t want to be out of the room in case something went wrong, but seeing your child with leeches was nearly more than you could stand. Jacob grabbed at your arm to squeeze it reassuringly.

“What did you want to do, (Y/N)? I have a feeling Gabriel would prefer we are close by than out of sight,” Jacob reminded you.

Hearing your child still screaming and coughing made your heart constrict in regret that you let this happen. Chewing at your lower lip, you nodded hesitantly before hiding your sadness upon the warmth of Jacob’s chest. “I’ll stay…”

It was difficult to watch, and at times, you didn’t. Gabriel was even more panicked sounding with the leeches trying to remove the illness in his blood. You found your face being buried against Jacob’s chest to try and ignore what was going on, but the sounds made it all the worse until the treatment finally came to a close.

“That should do the trick,” mused the doctor in a soft voice as he cleaned up Gabriel and even wiped his nose clean in hopes to allow him a better means to breathe. “If he’s still acting out of sorts, do give me a call, Mr. Frye.”

Jacob moved to accept the hand of the doctor and shake it firmly with a nod. “I thank you for your help here, doctor.”

You wasted no time in holding your son again, trying to quiet him with your words and the rushed, panicked rhythm of your beating heart Gabriel could no doubt hear. The feel of your warmth and the sound of your voice caused the child to slowly come back to himself, though whimpering silently.

 

 

 

When Emmett returned sometime later in the evening and was told of the incident, he offered to work on dinner to let you care to Gabriel and be with Jacob in peace for a bit. As you cradled the infant close to your chest protectively, your lower lip trembled in a desire to speak to Jacob about parenthood in regards to being an Assassin.

“How were you able to adjust to the idea of Emmett being an Assassin at a young age, Jacob?” you asked in the quiet bedroom.

“Mm?” Jacob’s brow wrinkled at your question, his eyes shifting about nervously for an answer you might be content with. “You never are when they are a young one, (Y/N),” your lover answered honestly, his tone heavy at the thought. “The thought that Emmett would be taking to the field one day horrified me, if I am to be honest, yet…I was proud of him too for desiring to follow the Creed and protect others.”

Your eyes looked Jacob over urgently, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“He wanted to spend time with me on the field, and…” Jacob paused, got comfortable on the bed he was lying out on and then continued. “…and to be honest, I really wanted that since Evie had left for India when Emmett was two.”

“But didn’t it scare you that he might die?”

“Oh, bloody hell, yes,” Jacob answered without restraint. “All the time.” He moved to look down at the foot of the bed while his thumbs occasionally pressed against one another in idle movement from where his hands were clasped upon his chest. “His first blooding, Emmett hesitated as you did, but it cost him as he was fighting a local Templar we had been tracking. The bloke acted without a second thought and stabbed Emmett right in the stomach a few times. I thought for sure my son was going to bleed out and die.”

You inhaled sharply at some fake memory of the event playing in your head to get a better picture of it.

“But, Emmett killed the target with a dagger going right to his chest, and after that, I rushed Emmett to the hospital,” continued Jacob casually.

“He seems all right now,” you admitted with a tremble in your tone.

“Got a nasty scar from it,” said Jacob, scratching his beard. “But I expected no less.” Turning to look upon you then, he nodded to Gabriel. “I know you’re scared for him, as you should be, but we won’t let anything happen to him anymore—I swear it.”

You wished you could be so calm at the idea, but now you were plagued with the very thought of your son, who was so innocent and pure, growing up to be a killer and wondering who might be the man or woman to end Gabriel’s life well before his time.

 

\--

 

Gabriel appeared to get better as the days went onward, and you found yourself relieved. If he had died so young, you would have been inconsolable. However, there was no guarantee that you would have your son forever now.

Five years…five years felt like such a small amount of time to keep Gabriel a small, innocent boy you could hold close to your chest.

Perhaps it was unwise to be up so late feeding your son as your thoughts began to toy with your heart. You already almost lost him to a damn villain you weren’t even prepared for—an illness…what could an actual human being do to him?

With Emmett out and about for the evening and Jacob asleep, you couldn’t control the urge, and before you knew it—you ran for the front door as if to run away from it all blindly.

Tucking your son’s head and small body into the warm security of your coat, you ran without thought to guide you on where to go and just hurried through the streets of London to try and escape it—the Council, the Brotherhood of Assassins….even Jacob himself. Tears blinding your vision and your breathing so heavy and panicked, you hadn’t realized your own son was crying in discontent at your hurried actions, which jostled him about so.

When the sounds dawned on you, you ducked into an alleyway and gently shushed the small child. Templars and Blighters were still about and some knew who you were…if they were to find you, they would kill you both without mercy, no doubt. “Shhh, Gabriel,” you insisted, rocking your son in your arms to try and encourage his silence. “It’ll be okay…I swear…!”

But would it? If you ran away, Gabriel would not know his father and you would be hunted by the Council for betraying an oath.

Before you could think on it further, Emmett suddenly dropped down from the building’s rooftops and surprised you. “Emmett!” you exclaimed, backing up as if being approached by a stranger. “Wh-What are you doing here!”

“I saw you run,” Emmett answered, removing his hood he had in place to expose himself a bit better. “I saw you run,” he repeated, “and…I was reminded of my mum trying to run with me when I was a small boy.”

You relaxed. “Your mother did the same thing…?”

“When I was six, yes,” sighed Emmett in understanding, burying his fingers in his curly hair to fix the strands back into place. “Right when I told her I wanted to be an Assassin, she packed up a few things, grabbed me and urged me to the streets of Whitechapel where she hoped to run far from my father as he slept—just as you’re doing.”

“What stopped her?” you asked, taking a seat upon one of the nearby crates.

“My crying and screaming for my father for one, but he did wake up to find us gone, and so my father tracked us down.” Emmett looked to Gabriel before finding your eyes with a pleading face. “His life won’t be all that jolly, no…but if you leave without him being allowed to know his heritage, his father, and his half-brother…it will be all the less so for him.”

Flinching at Emmett’s words, you rested your cheek against Gabriel’s head, which was concealed in your clothing, not sure what would be the better ending for him.

“I grew up with my parents resenting one another all because of this bloody Creed…they fell apart, and it was hard to see my mum and dad at certain times because of their separation.” Emmett joined you on the crate you had taken as a seat. “Please…don’t let Gabriel go through the same thing.” When you attempted to look away, he reached for your cheek to try and sooth your worries. “My father loves you, and you’d be barking mad to run from him right now. It would destroy him; especially, if the Council makes him be the one to murder you for betraying the Creed.”

Sucking in your lower lip, you suppressed a desire to scream as you felt so trapped. You did love Jacob, and you wanted Gabriel happy, but would **_you_** ultimately be happy? You weren’t even sure if you wanted to be an Assassin anymore.

“There’s so much I am unsure of.” Your words trembled as you spoke, your hand moving to Emmett’s to hold it tightly. “I love him so much and I want everybody happy, but…”

“You don’t know what the future holds, (Y/N),” Emmett reminded you, his hands upon your cheeks to still your sorrow and keep your focus on him. “For all you know, this could turn out just fine! Don’t fight it just yet!” When you didn’t respond, his hold became firm for a mere moment, his thumb rolling over your cheek. “Please, just come back. We need you in this.”

Your heart squeezing upon his words, you shut your eyes in a way that appeared as though you had been winded by some punch someone had dealt you given the impact of Emmett’s words. Moving against the Master Assassin then, you buried your face into the nook of his neck and just began to cry as Emmett held you in response.


	8. Worries of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone would ask for it now and again for another installment for The Fall, so here it is, dears, and thanks for the support. ♥ I’ll just say read the chapter to find out what it’s about if you’re interested~. C: If you enjoyed it, leave kudos and a comment are awesome, and if you want—message me as well. Otherwise, I don’t really put focus on this series without support~.

Emmett had managed to escort you home after your near escape from the Brotherhood and the delegations that were to befall your son in time. It felt more as though the oldest son of Jacob was urging you onward with every step you took through the cold, dead streets of London. Every now and again you would stall, looking down at Gabriel to be certain of his health, mind racing with the ideas of him being an Assassin in the future and taking to the way of the blade as Emmett and his father had. 

The very idea made your throat dry, your legs numb, and you almost lost all feeling mere feet from the house once more as you cradled your settled babe closer to your breast. Jacob even confessed Emmett nearly died during his first blooding as you too were near foolish enough to stall as well. False images of what was to come for Gabriel for such an unavoidable event, you panicked, shaking your head with a gasping cry as Emmett had gripped upon your upper shoulders just from behind (unknown to you). If he hadn’t been there…who knows what you would have done… 

“I can’t,” you whispered pathetically, words upon the chill in the air as you dug your heels firmly into the cracked streets just outside of your home like a stubborn mare refusing to inch forward to what could possibly be salvation or damnation. 

“(Y/N),” Emmett began, his brow wrinkled in concern in regards to an all too familiar fear radiating from a mother new to the idea of birthing a child into the Creed, “at least go in there and explain to **_him_** how you feel about this.” 

Hearing Emmett reference Jacob, you turned your teary gaze to him as if to question if it could truly be that simple…Would Jacob have all the answers you were seeking? It seemed when you last both spoke he wasn’t keen on the idea of talking about Emmett taking to the field in worry of something. 

“My mum made the mistake of not talking to my father when she felt this frightened, love,” Emmett confessed, a somber sigh escaping him at having to be forced to relive that moment in his life. “My father will do everything in his damn power to be there for you, but you need to tell him when you’re uncertain of something.” He cracked a weary laugh that could be heard behind his lips. “You know how bleeding daft the man is—can hardly tell his up from his down at times, so I doubt he knows good and well what’s going on in that mind of yours unless you tell him.” 

Your lower lip trembled as if to deny that would be all it could take. 

“Just at least go in there and **_look_** at him, (Y/N),” Emmett urged onward, motioning towards the front door within sight of you both. “You owe him and your son that much before you make such a brash decision again.” 

Hearing the gentle cooing of Gabriel, you chewed at your lower lip with the tears stinging your cheeks given the icy bite in the air as they trailed upon your skin. You did owe Jacob that much given everything you had been through. Perhaps talking to him might be better than merely running from the problem as you so brashly assumed. A small laugh escaped you as you started to gradually take a step forward with Emmett’s guidance. “I am becoming as foolhardy and reckless as him.” 

Emmett scoffed at your confession. “Not good to know, but I am glad I was here to push you in the right direction.” 

Swallowing back any dread that dared to surface, you took what courage you managed to unearth and hurried forward before that bravery could leave you as it threatened to do with every step you took to the front door. Palm on the handle, you twisted it slightly to allow yourself back inside where you covered Gabriel a bit more within your clothing to be sure the cold air wouldn’t harm him further after the whooping cough he had been treated for days ago. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but inwardly damn yourself for acting so careless. Your son was recovering from that illness, and you recklessly put his life at risk once more. 

Emmett remained close by, watching every step you took and seemingly guarding the door as if to prevent you from leaving again without logical reason. When you turned to look at him, his lips twisted to the side to give you a reassuring sideways smile before he ushered you mutely onward down the hall with a gesture of his hand where Jacob was resting in bed. 

You hated the idea of waking him at this hour, but you knew sleep wouldn’t come to you at all, and he would pry about it in the morning. Besides, you needed some form of reassurance in the matter…something to put your mind at ease… 

Opening the door to the bedroom, you saw Jacob lying there on his back peacefully. His injured leg remained propped upon a few assorted pillows and restrained still as it continued to heal, his hands intertwined upon his chest as the soft snoring rumbling in his throat indicated how deep asleep he truly was. Quietly, you took to the chair nearby, watching as Jacob slumbered serenely in the moonlight that bathed his partially clothed figure (seeing as he hated nightgowns and only wore his underwear to bed at times unless there was company he was aware of that might be offended by the sight). 

You had witnessed such acts before when he was sleeping off his wounds from the Jack incident and the fall from Big Ben, but this felt much different. Even as you both shared a bed from time to time, you never truly sat and watched him look so relaxed… so… normal. An Assassin he may very well be, but he looked like any other man lying there in his bed, not aware that the woman he adored was in some inner turmoil as you tried to keep a brave front in regards to your emotions—not wanting to add another worry to the man’s plate. 

Like Emmett had in his youth, you wanted to think of Jacob as some superhuman being, a man without faults and always knowing of what was going on within you and those around him, but as your eyes scanned the Master Assassin curiously, your heart thumped painfully in your chest at realizing what pressures you put on him lately to try and be this perfect person in your life. 

Jacob wasn’t perfect…he was a hero for always being there for you, but like so many people in this world, he was imperfect. He got jealous, he got angry, he got overprotective, he would act without reason, he would feel threatened, and lonely and need just as much love and attention as any child, it seemed for reasons unknown to you. 

Vision blurring as tears overcame you once more, you lowered your head as you felt awful for the pressures you had put upon him and the idealistic views you had given just to his name alone. “I am so sorry, Jacob,” you mostly mouthed, as you didn’t wish to wake him. 

As Gabriel stirred slightly in your arms, you moved to your feet then to settle the baby down to the crib nearby and let him find peace in the coming hours of twilight. With the infant tucked away, you went back to where Jacob lay resting with your hands folded before your attire. You just didn’t have the heart to wake him…just not yet. A sigh of regret at that thought, you leaned forwards to kiss his lips then to at least have that as deterrence from running away once more. 

Surprisingly, as your lips touched one another, you felt Jacob’s react sluggishly in kind and his snoring had ceased. Your heart beat wildly in worry that you had roused him, and sure enough, his fingers began to move and while his eyes remained closed, Jacob addressed you. “What was that for, love?” He sounded weary, and after a moment of you stalling in uncertainty of how to respond, the elder Assassin opened his eyes to finally gaze upon you. “What has you up as this, (Y/N)?” 

You motioned behind you, being honest when you answered. “Gabriel was hungry, so I was feeding him,” you admitted, clearing your sinuses to try and hide any distress in your actions and words. 

Of course, the heaviness in your tone was easily caught on by Jacob as he remained there looking to you, his thumbs tapping upon one another in idle movement. “Really? Is that all?” With you trying to avoid looking at him, Jacob tilted his head slightly to the side to look at you out of the corner of his eye as if to force you to confess without saying or doing much. 

The way he was visually addressing you made you realize there was no escaping this talk now. You could joke all you wanted that he was dense, but he wasn’t completely. “Jacob, I…can I talk to you for a bit?” 

Jacob readjusted himself on the bed, clearing his throat at your request. “I’m listening.” The exhaustion in his tone was gone, and in that moment you had an inkling he already knew what was possibly ailing you—perhaps dreading it in a sense though wishing to talk if it would alleviate you in some form. 

Where would you start? Would you start with ‘I just tried to leave you a moment ago’? No, that was too forward, and you knew that would cause the discussion to be tainted in anger as Jacob wasn’t one to take rejection well or competition if Emmett’s presence meant anything as of late. Taking to the chair once more, you flattened the wrinkles in your clothing against your palm and looked upon your lover there in the moonlight with a smile that was as forced as it was honest. “You really have been there for me a lot, Jacob,” you began, voice still quivering a bit in fear and uncertainty. “It feels as though it was years ago where you saved me from dying of a fever there in the cold rain that night.” 

You were indeed in a bind when having made it to London with hardly a shilling to your name. Everything you tried to apply for ended in failure or rejection, and even the local Blighters saw to it to have fun with you when you dared to ask for a moment by their fire late at night. You were sick, cold, and hardly had any weight upon you whatsoever with what little food you could consume let alone keep down as you found eating difficult with how unsettled your stomach was from the early stages of pneumonia. 

When the Blighters tried to bully and threaten you, Jacob and his Rooks had stepped in to deal with the situation and the whole evening was fuzzy. Gunfire, yelling, screaming, bodies falling to the ground…it was all like some blurred dream in the back of your mind. When Jacob had turned to assure you it would be okay, you had collapsed, and would have surely died had he not taken you in to aid you back to health. 

“You were sick with pneumonia, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you, his thumbs continuing to twiddle about as he spoke. “You nearly died in my care with how frail you were when that illness took you over.” 

You flashed a brief smile. “Even the damn doctor told you it would be impossible to heal me in my state—that I would die in time regardless of your struggles to keep me breathing and well.” Sucking in your lower lip to prevent it from trembling in happiness at the old memory, you continued, “But like I said before: you never gave up on me. Even when I was a nobody in your world, you didn’t let me succumb to death.” 

The corner of Jacob’s mouth dipped downward as if to substitute for a shrug of some sort, perhaps to be dismissive of the act being heroic. “As you know by now, the Creed serves to protect the innocent, and as I’ve told you before, love: I am not quite fond of bullies.” He chortled at that last line as if tickled by an old mantra he used to live by. 

Your leg began to wobble a bit in nervousness of how to continue the conversation. You didn’t wish of it to become unpleasant in the least as the old memories were like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night. “I wasn’t a great Rook, and I did my best to avoid being in skirmishes and the like…never…” You stalled, swallowing harshly at the very idea of what you wanted to say. “…never did I want to take the life of anybody, and for whatever reason, you saw fit to see me an Assassin.” 

“Not all Assassins are keen to killing or have to, (Y/N),” Jacob confessed without hesitation. “Just talk to ol’ Greenie if he gets here upon Evie’s return.” The Assassin relaxed, repositioning himself once more upon the old bed, causing it to creak at his movements. “Besides, you have killed before—you killed for me when I fell from Big Ben, to my understanding as those Blighters didn’t just vanish after my fall, I am sure, and even during Jack’s uprising did you take on a group of rogue Rooks.” His hazel eyes shifted about in the moonlight as he nodded at your wrist where the hidden blade hadn’t rested in sometime now given your pregnancy. “You will use a blade, a gun…anything on any bloke who dares to harm those close to you, and that is what I noticed about you when watching you on the field.” Jacob grunted as he (perhaps) tried to move his wounded leg without thinking, his fingers untwining from one another as he moved his palm upon the throbbing pain on his thigh. “You draw your courage and strength from others, and that is an impressive quality, but I was hoping to work on other means to empower you beyond your loved ones being in danger.” Jacob shrugged his eyebrows with a playful smile spread upon his lips. “Lord knows I cannot fall from Big Ben more than once.” 

You laughed bitterly at that memory. “That was frightening for me, Jacob.” Forehead wrinkled in concern, you moved your hand to his, drifting it off of his thigh to try and get him to relax and ignore the pain he accidentally excited. “Watching you fall and nearly die was a nightmare, and I thought for sure I had lost you.” Your fingers recoiled upon his touch, and sensing the worry in your gesture, Jacob responded by holding your hand firmly. “I thought I had lost my one piece of strength in this horrid world.” 

“But I healed, and I got better because of you, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you as it was your voice and actions that brought him back to himself slowly. “You also put your foot down whenever I was a stubborn arse, not wishing to heal proper like, and I appreciate that.”

You managed an honest smile to his words, relieved he actually appreciated that moment which felt so long ago from that day. However, given all the events the two of you suffered through, you had to admit you knew little of his past. “Jacob…” you whispered reluctantly, tightening your hold onto his hand, “…may I ask you a personal question?” 

“Mm?” 

“I have given you a son in this world…told you secrets…expressed my love to you in many ways, and I just…” You closed your eyes, hoping this might shed light on his own fathering abilities as he spoke rarely of his past to you for some reason. “I feel you know more about me than I do you.” At speaking such honesty, you felt Jacob move his hand from yours as if offended by your words. “What was…what was your father and mother like?” 

Jacob sighed a dreadful sounding sigh as he turned and gazed up at the ceiling as if pondering on whether or not to answer that question. The atmosphere in the room changed as you feared it would, feeling thick and heavy. “My mum died after giving birth to me,” Jacob finally spoke, piercing through the thickness in the air like a knife to butter with that one sentence. “The last twin out, and my father was just…he was devastated.” 

“I’m sorry, Jacob,” you apologized, regretting asking such a question. 

“I don’t remember much about him when I was younger, as he left for six years, leaving me and my sister in the care of our grandmother and, of course, Lindy was a nanny of sorts too.” He sucked in his lower lip, looking to his fingers as if to try and remain calm when talking of such a personal part of his life. “I know my sister was a bit better than me when it came to stealth and everything else involving the Creed, but the walls did indeed talk from time to time.” The light was little, but you could see the anger there upon Jacob’s face as he thought back on such a rough time in his life. “My father left…because he worried if he stayed around for much longer, he would succumb to the idea of killing me for what I did—suffocating me…a **_baby_** …with a pillow or some rubbish like that.” 

You heard him sniffle as if to deny the idea of sorrow or feeling any sort of emotion towards that man. “Jacob, that wasn’t your fault…!” quickly, you insisted. 

He waved away your desire to comfort him as if you weren’t truly understanding the situation as well as he. “I could sing his praises that he at least left to heal and think better on the whole situation, but when he came back he just…belittled me, acted as though I were invisible and that Evie was just ‘heaven sent’.” Jacob rolled his eyes, shifting once more on the covers as he was probably getting uncomfortable in that one position upon his back. “Oh, everything she did was just perfect and wonderful in his eyes, and then there was me—the bloody fuck up who wouldn’t stop getting into trouble or flirting with the girl next door who was ‘far too old for me’.” 

Reluctantly, you kept quiet. You wished you could say something to ease him as you couldn’t deny the awful living situation Jacob had been in. 

“I started to resent him—resent my sister too as she hung on every blasted word that bloke uttered,” confessed Jacob onward still, his eyes remaining forward as he dared not look at you. “I acted out, because if I didn’t neither of them would notice me nor give a shit about me.” Jacob moved his hand to his face perhaps to be rid of some tears, but again, you couldn’t say as the light was pathetic. “He died when I was a young lad, and when he did, I talked Evie into ‘spreading father’s legacy’ about London, and here I am.” 

You could hear Jacob trying to be perky again after ending that sorrowful story, making you sigh in regret of asking. “Did you ever forgive him? It is obvious you forgave your sister as she’s the one person who can make you smile at times.” 

“What absolute rubbish! Since when does she only do such a thing?” asked Jacob in the darkened room, his hands still moving a bit to be rid of the tears near his eyes perhaps. 

“When you were healing from the Jack incident, it was obvious she meant a lot to you, and you even confessed a year or so ago that she was your other half in a sense,” you reminded your mentor. 

Jacob sighed once more, moving his shoulders about to try and stretch his muscles. “I **_was_** a bloody screw up,” he murmured honestly. “I killed Templars and Blighters without thought when I was a brash lad—thinking everything I was doing was in the right, and it was my sister who had to clean up my messes.” He gestured upward. “I wanted to show that bastard that I wasn’t worthless and that I had a purpose beyond being some mistake in his eyes, and if I could prove my sister the same bloody thing, I would. When Evie and I took down Starrick, we sort of surrendered our resentment to one another, realizing how important the other was in the other’s life.” He pursed his lips, old eyes doing their best to search yours out in the dark parted only by moonlight. “I forgave my sister, I got married, I had a son, I took in Jack who was like a son to me, and I had my gang…I was able to find love, finally, after all those years of receiving nothing and being nothing. I was somebody for once, and I was noticed, and I had a boy that I swore to myself I would be the better father to…” 

You noticed he paused, his words derailing as he spoke such honesty as if regretting the thought that he had, indeed, become a bit like his own father in a sense with how he had treated Emmett lately and in the past when his marriage collapsed. 

“I forgave him, (Y/N), yes,” Jacob whispered, his words near trembling as he spoke that confession. “Only because I began to sympathize and understand him a bit better after what I endured with the woman I once loved.” 

That explained it. The reason Jacob appeared so desperate to keep love in his life was because he felt he was always denied it. He had to work the hardest out of anybody to feel loved and adored, and when he finally had such a sensation, he fought the strongest to keep it in his life regardless of what it was—the Rooks, his sister, his son, his former wife, and now you…Each person made him feel like a man whereas his father castrated him unknowingly. 

Taking to his hand quickly, you brought it to your lips to kiss his knuckles as his fingers lazily touched upon your hand as if the emotions overwhelming him made it all too difficult for Jacob to be very responsive. “Can you promise me something, Jacob?” 

“What is it?” he asked, tone sounding heavy with worry of what you would request next. 

“Can you promise me that you’ll do everything in your power to protect Gabriel when he takes to the field?” 

“Have I let you down before?” Jacob asked, accidentally moving his body to where it caused him more minor pain. Grunting at the tender sensation, he swore angrily to himself and did his best to lie back down properly. “(Y/N), I know this is hard for you, but you have to trust me when I tell you that the boy is going to be properly trained by Evie and myself, and he will not fall under our care. I know I’ve messed up before, but I am a much older man now, and I swear to you that I won’t make the same mistakes again!” 

Hesitantly, you nodded as you lacked much to add at that moment. 

“(Y/N),” began Jacob as if to hint there was some catch to this, “you have to promise me something now.” 

Back stiffening, you sucked in your lower lip. “Yes?” 

His hand upon yours tightened in the thick of the night, moving closer best he was able. “You need to promise me that you’ll come to me and talk when things are getting over your head.” Feeling you tense, Jacob refused to let go of your hand. “I was rubbish at acknowledging when my last wife was in danger, and I should have seen the obvious signs of her distress, but I was too engrossed in my Creed to tend to her as I should have done. While a bad deed on my part, it was also on her own for not talking to me as she should have. Do not make this fall apart all because you are afraid to talk to me.” 

Hearing him touch upon such a thing, you felt guilt rise up within you as it was because of not talking to him you nearly ran from Jacob. “I promise…!” The words accidentally quaked forth in the form of a shaking sob as you moved forwards to do your best to embrace him with the position he had to remain in. 

Jacob’s hesitant actions showed he was clueless about what was going on within you, but his palm did gently caress your back as he did his best to embrace you in return. “We’re going to get through this…I swear it…!” 

All you could do was hope that was to be the case.

 

\--------

 

As the months went onward, Jacob’s leg only expressed minor pains whenever the weather was acting up, oddly enough. While he could still take back to the field just fine, he did have to take medicine on occasion whenever the soreness would flare up. Though, it was such a hassle to even get him to do so or to confess that he was in pain at times. 

“So stubborn,” you chastised as you breastfed Gabriel while Jacob started to do press-ups to get his muscles back in order and to reenergize his body that had been bedridden for a time (much to his dismay). “You know it won’t hurt to just take some medicine to make life a bit easier, you know?” 

“You say these things, (Y/N), as though you do not know me,” he chuckled, his muscles flexing upon each motion he made to exercise and get himself back in peek performance. “Lying in a bed was dreadful for my body overall, and I aim to fix that regardless of what my leg wants from time to time.” 

Jacob was relentless. Ever since he was told he could start walking about again as the leg was as good as it was going to get, he started to jog early in the mornings amongst other routines with his son, Emmett. While you had Emmett’s word he would make sure his father didn’t go too far, you couldn’t help but be worried. “Again, you’re going to push yourself so hard you’ll end up regretting it as you’ll be bedridden once more.” 

Feeling Gabriel finish with nursing, you were quick to cover back up before burping him. “Come on, now,” you sighed, nudging Jacob’s back foot gently with your own. “Didn’t Evie say she was returning with Henry Green today?” 

Taking to his knees and then pushing himself upright, Jacob grabbed at the towel nearby on the floor to try and wipe the sweat from his brow at least. “So she said in her last letter to me.” He kept his back facing you, unaware if you were clothed or not. “Are you decent?” 

“I am fully clothed, yes,” you responded, kissing Gabriel’s forehead as the boy was still very much a sleepy little one that rarely did much fussing unless at night when he was hungry or uncomfortable. “You yourself should get decent, speaking of. Don’t need your sister to see you with merely your pants on.” 

“Eh, she’s seen me as this from time to time when she’s had to witness me at the Fight Club,” confessed Jacob, opening his arms to take Gabriel from you when he faced you both. Holding the little boy in his arms, Jacob’s smile widened as he caressed the innocent child’s rosy cheek with his index finger. 

The baby’s eyes opened with curious wonder at the affection of his father before a small smile graced his lips and a soft laugh could be heard from Gabriel. His hand moving to his father’s cheek, the tiny fingers curled upon Jacob’s beard to show the same mirrored act. Jacob took to Gabriel’s curious touch, moving it to his lips to kiss him there with a lidded, loving look to his old eyes. 

Smiling at the scene, you nodded towards Jacob. “Still, I feel it would be best to be decent since you’ve not seen your brother-in-law for sometime now.” 

“Years, really,” responded Jacob, keeping Gabriel in his arms for a moment before bothering to bend down and fetch his clothing from the floor. “It’s been quite a time since I last was in India, but I was there to train some recruits of mine—Emmett and Jack included.” 

“Then at least get decent for him,” you teased though being serious as well as you asked for Gabriel back so Jacob could accomplish such a thing. 

Jacob chuckled at your insisting behavior, dabbing the rest of the sweat from his body when his arms were free of his son. “They won’t be here till close to dinner, love. I best bathe first before I even dream of meeting them.” 

“Then you bathe, and I will focus on dinner for everyone.” You tilted your head curiously. “Will Emmett be joining us?” 

Ever since Jacob had healed, Emmett had gone back to his duties about Westminster and spending what time he could with his birth mother. You had to admit the house felt a bit lonelier without him around, but you dared not speak such a truth to Jacob given how he reacted for a time around his own son. 

Jacob’s answer was short, but probably because of that same buried jealousy he had towards his son. “He’ll probably have dinner with his mum, so I doubt it.” 

Realizing that Emmett might be spending more time away from you and Gabriel, you couldn’t help but feel concerns rise up within your chest. “Won’t any of that raise suspicion on the Council—with him being far away and all?” 

“How are they going to find out?” Jacob asked with a laugh that hissed through his teeth. “If they send in a Council member to address anything in person, they usually say so in a letter. We are always given a warning regarding their movements just so there are no surprises.” 

You tried to calm the anxiousness in your mind and heart. The last thing you wanted or needed was your son being stripped from you and Jacob banished for lying to the Council. “I just worry, you know?” You shifted Gabriel in your arms, cradling the boy’s head as you rocked him in your embrace. “If the Council ever does unearth the truth they could banish you…” 

Jacob’s brow wrinkled, his mouth opened as if to dispute it were to be that tame with a sharp inhale of how incorrect your worry was. “Worse, really,” he murmured as though it were nothing that bothered him. “You falsify information time and time again to the Council, your life is put in danger, and you’re faced with their blades.” 

You flinched at the thought, nearly losing the energy to stand. 

“Emmett would be stripped of his title and banished as he was following my orders, but I would be given a far worse a punishment for my act in this.” Jacob motioned at nothing in particular before his arm found rest beside him once more. “With the Jack incident and trying to lie there in regards to the training I was doing still when they asked me to stop, the losing of Assassins I worked hard to get into London against Jack that the Council forbade me from sending against someone as insane as Jack, and then impregnating a student of mine…well…” He fondled with his white undershirt he soon had in his hands and was about to put on just to venture to the washroom. “They would have deemed me a bloody wreck and a danger to the Creed and ordered me dead for lying about my misdeeds and endangering the Brotherhood.” 

“And that doesn’t concern you any?” you asked, breathless at his actions being so calm in this. 

“I am not worried, (Y/N), because I’ve dealt with that lot for years!” Jacob hissed quietly between you, grabbing at your chin to steady your fretful gaze. “I promise you, it’ll be fine.” 

All you could do was indeed take his word for it as you hesitantly nodded. Jacob could see your obvious distress and it was there he motioned for the door ahead. 

“Evie and Henry will be here eventually, (Y/N),” Jacob reminded you, doing his best to sigh out his frustration on the topic prior. “Why don’t you put Gabriel down for a nap and get started on dinner as you planned? I will finish bathing and help you in a moment.” 

Moving your hand to Jacob’s, you held it tightly for a mute need for reassurance before departing to do as he asked. Gabriel was still a bit awake, but you took that moment to lie him down in the crib regardless with a loving hold upon his tiny hand. “I will be right back, sweetheart,” you whispered tenderly, turning on your heels then to focus on food for the coming evening. 

As you did your best to separate your mind from the worry of the Council, you thought on this Henry Green character. You saw one photo of him in Jacob’s bedroom from time to time whenever you were asked there in the past and asked about him, but that was years ago when Jacob was a younger man in his mid to late twenties, it seemed. Even he told you he couldn’t remember his exact age as it felt so long ago. 

But in regards to that photo Evie and him both had changed in the passing of time, so how would this Henry person appear after all these years? Would he even come…? Evie expressed before leaving that he might not wish to, and that had you worried for her as it was obvious the man meant a lot to her. 

Jacob had soon finished his bath and when he arrived to try and aid you in the kitchen several moments later, a knock at the door halted him in his footsteps. “I’ll get that, (Y/N),” he said, turning on his heels and heading for the front door of your house to answer it. 

The voices were muffled on the other side of the wall that housed the living room and front door, but you could hear the familiar voice of Evie and some other man that you couldn’t recognize. Letting the food cook for the time being, you wiped your hands on your apron and went to greet Evie once more and to see who this Henry fellow was. 

“Been such a long time, Jacob,” spoke the gentle tone of the Indian looking man garbed in rather regal looking clothing that had a flair to them that reminded you of India itself with its intricate designs and patterns. His expression was gentle, lines of stress and age upon his features as he shook Jacob’s hand in greeting. His hair was tied back and while parts of it remained black, some of it was starting to gray; especially a piece that fell close to his cheek on the left side of his hazelnut colored skin. “I’ve heard from your sister that not much has changed in all this time.” 

Jacob laughed lightheartedly at those words, urging them inside. “Not as you’d expect, old man,” he joked, offering a kiss on the cheek to his sister in passing before shutting the door behind them. “While you know of Jack, I am sure, I just…found love when least expecting to.” 

“And this is a miserable thing?” Henry questioned, playfulness in his weary tone. As he turned with a gentle smile upon his face, it was then his eyes caught upon yours and saw you standing in the archway leading into the kitchen. “Oh,” he began, hand upon his chest, “my apologies, miss. I didn’t see you there.” 

You noticed he was looking you up and down as if to study you and be sure that was indeed the woman that Evie probably whispered about in private back home in India. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Green,” you responded, knowing this had to be the man in question. “I’ve heard a lot about you from Jacob and Evie both.” 

Henry extended his hand for you to take and upon touching his palm, you felt the dry roughness of it as he turned the back of your hand towards his lips to kiss you there as a means to greet you. “And I have heard a lot of you as well from the twins. Seems we’re both the topic of pleasant conversation, Mrs. Frye.” 

Hearing that last name given to you, you steadied your beating heart. “Oh, umm—I have no rights to that name, Mr. Green.” 

“Really?” Henry questioned, looking to Jacob as if shocked by that bit of news. Jacob waved away his mentor’s questionable look as if to not ask about it for some reason. “You live with him, birthed his son, and cared for him when he was sick and that is not a reason to have that name?” 

“Greenie,” Jacob began as if to scold the man’s bold words and actions. While the two looked long and hard at each other, you could swear you noticed Jacob mouthing ‘now is not the time’, but you weren’t sure to be honest as Jacob was intentionally being unclear with his lip movements. 

“My mistake, my dear,” continued Henry, clearing his throat to remove the tension for a moment in the room. “All the same, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you. I am Henry Green, and you must be (Y/N).” 

You nodded with a smile, folding your hands before your apron. “It is a pleasure and an honor as well, sir. Dinner is almost ready, and I can help with your luggage later if you like?” 

“Don’t be silly,” Evie insisted kindly, waving away the thought. “Henry and I can manage that on our own, and even then, we won’t be keeping you for long in regards to staying here.” 

“What?” you asked, a bit confused as to where they would be staying having just gotten back to London. 

“Evie and I have found a place where we can stay thanks in part to Emmett who has been searching about for us,” explained Henry with a motion off to the side. “Now, shall we settle down for the time being and get to know one another better? I am interested to hear exactly what Jacob and Evie have said about me as of late.” 

He was showing a bit of humor in his words, and Evie couldn’t help but smile at his response as it felt nice to have her husband nearby, no doubt. Jacob even followed behind everybody towards the kitchen to aid in preparing and finishing the dinner for the evening. 

 

 

Dinner was pleasant and full of interesting stories about the Indian Brotherhood and their fear tactics. You had to admit you never heard of such things and never even witnessed Jacob do them or Emmett when you watched them on the field. Regardless, it was nice to be aware of such abilities should you choose to be interested in learning them later. 

When the meal was finished and Gabriel needed to be fed, you excused yourself for the time being to do so in the bedroom while Jacob and Henry took to the living room and Evie excused herself to go to the market. She felt this would be a perfect time for Henry and Jacob to catch up without anything hindering the two. 

“So, how long has it been exactly, Jacob?” Henry asked as you heard him take a seat on the other side of the wall that separated you from the conversation. The voices were muffled but loud enough to where you could at least hear what was going on. 

“Too long, old friend,” responded Jacob, mind apparently muddled down with something as his words sounded forced. 

Henry was quiet in response (perhaps he was nodding), but you heard his hands clasp together with a hum in thought. “She’s a bit younger than I was expecting, if you’ll excuse me for saying so.” 

“Mm,” Jacob merely hummed to acknowledge the obvious. “Which is why it was easy to fool the Council into thinking it was Emmett’s child and not mine.” 

Henry was quick to respond, “Ashamed, are you?” 

“No! Of course not!” Jacob hissed in displeasure at that accusation, causing you to raise a brow curiously behind the wall in wonder of what he would say. “I’m not bloody daft, you know? I knew what would happen if I slept with (Y/N) the times that I did.” You heard Jacob’s hands slap upon his thighs and the chair closer to where the wall was on your side moaned as he reclined back in his seat. “I just…I didn’t expect I could still have children at this age is all.” 

Appeared even Jacob was in the dark about his own gender roles now and again when it came to this world and what was expected of him or what he was even capable of. You had to admit you were surprised too given his age and the fact he could still get you pregnant. 

“Then tell me, what has you so worried to put a ring on that woman’s finger or, at the very least, call her your wife in some form?” Henry probed calmly. 

“Why does that bother or concern you, _Greenie_?” 

The stress on the nickname Jacob gave the man was harsh—cold even. As though the topic wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. You yourself couldn’t help but flinch at how aggressive it sounded. 

“You put a young woman like that through the hell she’s been through, lied to the Council about the origins of that baby in there, fought to stay alive for a month when under Jack’s torment…” Henry paused, causing a deafening silence till he found it in him to continue. “You don’t see that worthy of such an act?” 

Jacob was silent. 

Henry could be heard leaning forward on his thighs from not far away. “What has you so afraid, Jacob?” 

The soft sigh Jacob unleashed was nearly inaudible as you waited for his answer, heart about to burst from your chest in worry of what he might confess in what he thought was between friends. “I don’t want to ruin things again,” Jacob reluctantly explained, his words weighed down by the regret of the past. “I don’t want to claim this woman as mine only to have her grow to resent me in the end.” 

“Why would she?” 

“The only thing about her age that concerns me is the fact I am far older, and in time…” Jacob paused, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as he tried to find the right words to use. “…In time, I could be leaving her should God have a say in it.” 

“You act as though you’re going to die tomorrow, Jacob,” Henry chuckled as if to lighten the mood a bit. “There is a saying of sorts: live each day as though it could be your last. You are an Assassin who doesn’t know when that very well could be, right? Shouldn’t that be your motto?” 

Jacob sighed, shifting about once more as if to be sure you weren’t around though you were easily listening in from the other room. “Don’t speak so freely of the ideals of death, Greenie,” he pleaded, the sound of leather stretching being heard rather close to the old walls of the house. “Already (Y/N) fears for our son and when he will take to the field like the others, and I know it is the fear of losing him that drives her worries.” 

You closed your eyes slowly to try and drown out the negative thoughts and emotions that dared to overrun you once more at the dread of losing your son and, possibly, the man you loved on the field. 

“My apologies.” 

“As for your charming motto,” began Jacob, “I know.” 

“You are well enough to take back to the field, my friend,” continued Henry with the weight of the world on his words as he hated to remind Jacob of that fact. “You will be back on missions with Emmett and the others under your care with your lover here to tend to your son till he is old enough to do the same.” 

“The Council said such things, indeed, but I will be looking over Emmett’s shoulder as Evie and him take to the lead of London’s Templar threats while I raise my son,” explained Jacob without hesitation. “I do not wish of that boy to grow up resenting me or not knowing who I am all because of this bloody Creed again.” 

The response was selfish in a sense to the people of London and to his duties, but you couldn’t help but smile in relief at Jacob insisting on such a thing. Turning then to Gabriel, you stroked his cheek as he continued to nurse peacefully. His hand grabbing onto your finger to hold, the worries washed from you for once. 

“Then lessen the confusion,” urged Henry. “(Y/N) is not some student you got pregnant by accident. To my understanding, she is far more than that. That is…that is all I can say on the matter.” 

Jacob didn’t confirm or deny verbally Henry’s statement. Instead, you heard him rise to his feet then. “Fancy some tea while we continue to enjoy ourselves?” 

“That would be delightful,” answered Henry, not wishing to rebuke Jacob about the topic he had discussed earlier. 

Hearing Jacob move from where he was sitting to fix tea in the kitchen, you got up regardless and moved to the chair on the opposite side of the room just in case he desired to come in and check on you both. Biting at your lower lip, you knew this wasn’t easy for either of you. You didn’t expect to fall in love with a much older man—let alone your mentor. You didn’t expect to have his child either, but you did…you didn’t think the Council would chastise the both of you for these doings, but you were caught in the act and forced in a hard place that Jacob was willing to guide you through. With or without a ring, you knew Jacob would make the right choices this time around. 

Jacob had been with you through all the tough moments in your life upon arriving in London, and you knew he would continue to do so regardless.


End file.
